Part 7: I Wouldn't Lie To You
by pjstillnoon
Summary: Another year in the life of the Lightman's. Miracles can happen.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: I would just like to reiterate that this is Part 7 and there are obviously earlier episodes before this one. You don't have to read them but it would probably help with understanding their past events. _

**PJ**

Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her glance upwards, away from her work, to the corridor outside of her office. Cal. Her stomach tightened, just a little, but still enough for her to notice it. Still enough for her heart to also flutter a little. Still enough for her to hold her breathe on seeing him, even though she saw him that morning when they woke up, and in the shower, and for breakfast, and he had only stepped out just now for about an hour. And she had also watched him leave. Yeah. Still.

'_Tell him_.'

Gillian sighed. She sat motionless and watched Cal head to his office, Reynolds in tow; two excited boys playing a game. She would tell him _after_ the case was over, she reminded herself. Not before. Because Cal's brain injury meant he really could only focus on one big thing at a time and it wasn't like a week was going to make a difference to her news. And then once the case was over she would have Cal all to herself. He could focus on her. He was going to want to. He wouldn't want to be distracted in the middle of the elaborate and careful mess he was making. But that smile, the way he grinned as he strode along, bandied leg confidence back, it made her feel...

Gillian got up from her desk, compelled. She could hear the two men talking before she even rounded Cal's office door. But it wasn't jovial and mocking, it was a serious discussion. They were sitting on Cal's couch, leaning over the low table in front of them; Cal was signing papers. He glanced up as she came in, gave her a smile. "Hi darlin'."

"How'd it go?" Gillian asked. Ben greeted her as she crossed in front of them to perch on the armchair perpendicular, and she returned it politely.

"Great," Cal enthused.

Gillian turned her attention to Ben, who glanced at Cal, and when it seemed as though the facial expression expert wasn't going to elaborate, answered instead, "We arrested Rader for accessory."

Gillian raised an eyebrow, not sure if she was surprised or not. From what she had heard, perhaps not. "What charges specifically?"

"All of them," Cal cut in. He had clearly finished with scrawling his signature. Reynolds reached for the document and folded all the pages back into place before bending it in half lengthwise tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"All of them?" Gillian repeated. The drug trafficking? The human smuggling. Weapons distributions. Money laundering. Surely not.

"Yeah," Cal continued to look up at her. He absently gave his pen back to Reynolds. "All of them." He gave her a very pointed expression and it said everything from 'can you believe it! to 'I'll tell you all about it later' to 'no, seriously, he got done for all of them'.

Gillian wanted to ask what he had been signing, but she knew better. Reynolds got to his feet. "Thanks for your help on this," he spoke to Cal.

Cal got up as well, that sprightly little bounce back in his movements. "Not a problem. Two birds, one stone for me," he shook the FBI agent's hand. Reynolds offered Gillian a goodbye and she pleasantly responded without moving from her perch but wanted him to hurry up and leave. She wanted to know what had happened. With Rader and with Roberts. And the Rader Firm. Cal wouldn't talk to her about it with other people around. As if Reynolds didn't already know all about what had happened...

And then after that, she was going to have to tell her husband something important, which made her feel a little nervous, but mostly she wanted to get beyond that part so she could get to the bit where she was allowed to be excited. And maybe Cal would be excited too? Maybe.

Cal walked Reynolds to the door and closed it behind him. He turned back to Gillian with a grin. "Are you gloating?" She asked him softly.

"Me!" He feigned offence as he approached again.

"Your nemesis is taken down in spectacular fashion, brought about by your own hand, and there isn't the least bit of gloating in there?" Gillian pushed gently.

Cal headed to where she was still perching and pulled her to sit next to him on the couch. He looked her in the eye, hand still gripping hers. "Am I glad that dickhead finally, finally, got what was comin' him? Yes. Am I a little bit thrilled that I helped? Uh huh," he nodded like Lewis did, all wide eyes and seriousness. "Am I stoked his life has been destroyed and he's facin' some very serious charges? Not particularly. I would prefer it if we'd just had a showdown where he finally bowed down and acknowledged that I'm the king and he's neva gonna topple me." He gave her a cute smile and she laughed slightly despite herself. This was the old Cal back; the pre-head injury Cal and god, it felt so good to see him again. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and got serious again. "Now, Roberts," he went on. "He got swept up with Rader, seein' as those two were thick as thieves and all. And Reynolds thinks he can make those corporate theft charges stick with the evidence you already put togetha."

Gillian nodded. At least she had one thing less to worry about with being able to pass off their work 'problem' to Cal to deal with. Roberts had been stealing from them. Before he left, while he was still under Lightman Group employment, he had slipped client information to Rader, who had approached him with the intention of cultivating a spy. When Roberts had quit, before Gillian could sack him for being incompetent, he had walked out with a few of their exclusive FACS manuals. He had property with 'The Lightman Group' stamped on it still in his possession. Not entirely smart. Roberts was already in trouble back then. He had gotten himself mixed up with the head of a gang. He had borrowed money from them, initially, and then got sucked in deeper and deeper, unable to find his way out. The funny thing is, if he had asked for help, Cal might have been inclined to actually give it. If that was possible.

"So they're probably lookin' at the same amount of jail time in the end."

Why did she not feel good about that?

**PJ**

Lewis let himself out of his car seat and popped open the door, climbing out awkwardly before turning to reach for his bag. Gillian watched him as she slammed her door shut. Sometimes, he just made her smile. Her baby boy. They headed inside, turning on lights as they went. It was mid September; the days were getting noticeably shorter; worse when it was cloudy like today. It wasn't like it was black outside but it was dark enough inside to remind her that winter was fast approaching. Gillian kicked her shoes off by the stairs. Yesterday's shoes were still there too but she had been too tired last night to pick them up. Lewis mimicked her, laughing as his shoes went flying and she half heartedly reprimanded him when one left a mark on the wall. She wasn't exactly setting a good example and she would get that later. She compromised by telling him to be careful.

They went to the kitchen, dumping their bags. Gillian reminded Lewis to take his lunch box out for the morning, and his drink bottle, and he did so, putting them on the bench, then asked to watch TV. She agreed. And then, what was she going to do for dinner? She was really tired, wasted, no energy. She did have lunch right? She did. She remembered eating in the lab with Ria while they went over a case together. So? Maybe she needed an afternoon pick-me-up, more like late-evening, ok, pre-dinner snack. She reached for two fruit cups; one for her, one for Lewis and sat with him on the couch while she ate it. Lewis spooned his into his mouth absently, absorbed by the screen. Gillian tried to figure out what they were watching. There was Japanese animation and weird creatures, animals? That could talk and were in the throes of personification. Superheroes? Monsters?

Gillian checked the time. She really needed to start dinner or they would be eating so late. And yet she so couldn't be bothered. She gave Lewis a nudge with her elbow. "Pizza for dinner?" She finger spelled 'pizza' by using a double 'Z' movement and 'eat'.

"Oh yes!" Lewis nodded enthusiastically.

"Kay," Gillian gave his knee a squeeze as she got up off the couch. She rang the order through, two large, and had them deliver. Then she headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable and casual. No, her shoes would survive another night there by the stairs. Back on the ground floor, she checked her phone for messages from Cal. She had left him at work when she had gone to pick Lewis up from Kate's. Cal said he had one more thing he wanted to finish up. He complained about not being able to drive still. Gillian thought it would be an entirely good thing when he got his license back. Not just so she didn't have to run around after him, not that she minded that really, but so he could take another step towards 'normal' towards 'healed', towards gaining himself back. According to Maryland driving law, he needed to be seizure free for three months and he needed his doctor to sign off on the medical. It had been four months since the accident but Rockwell had insisted the counter start from the day Cal had gone home. Which meant he still had fifty-five days left to go. She wasn't sure which of them was counting.

There were no messages from Cal, but she did hear the front door and so stuck her head around the corner of the kitchen door to make sure that was her husband coming in. Yeah, those suits really did fit him so much nicer now that he worked out. "Oi you," Cal called lightly as he noticed her. When he reached where she was standing, he took her hand and gently pulled her into the hallway. He turned her so her back was against the wall. Gillian started to ask what he was doing when he pressed himself in close against her. She no longer had a doubt exactly what he was doing.

He pressed his lips against hers, a warm firm kiss that made her stomach clench up in delight and which quickly became heated as his fingers started exploring the skin under her shirt and his tongue dared to start exploring her mouth. Heat flooded through Gillian and rational thought escaped her. All she could focus on was her husband. And that little voice that insisted she tell him; the case was over now. She would tell him. Right after Lewis had gone to bed. She was going to sit him down and...

The door bell rang. "Hm?" Cal queried in his throat as he let his mouth sweep hers one more time.

"Dinner," Gillian explained breathlessly.

"You betta get that then," Cal pulled away and Gillian gave a slight shiver with the absence of his body heat. He gave her a grin. Gillian shoved him back further so she could straighten up from the wall. She asked him to get money from her purse in the kitchen and he gave a nonchalant reply that he could before sauntering away. He enjoyed that too much.

Gillian answered the door before the delivery person started to think they were ignoring them. "Hey, I got two large, pepperoni, one with olive," the guy gestured the boxes towards her and she took them. He told her the price just as Cal arrived with cash. He handed it over, told the guy to keep the change and was given an enthusiastic 'thank you' before Gillian pushed the door closed again with her elbow.

Cal turned to her with another grin. He loved how easily he could distract her. "Don't. Even. Start," she shot at him, brushing past and heading down the hallway.

Cal fell in step behind her. "You changed," he noted surprised. "I liked what you were wearin' at the office."

Gillian shot him a smirk over her shoulder as they walked; what she wore to the office was slightly more fitting to her figure. "Lewis!" She called. "Dinner." He didn't react. Cal reached over the back of the couch to grasp his shoulder and Lewis turned startled. Gillian listened as he enthusiastically greeted his father and then stood on the couch to wrap his arms around Cal's neck. He lifted the boy to his waist and carried him to the table, where Gillian was laying out plates. Lewis wanted to sit in Cal's lap while they ate, but he refused.

"You're a big boy, you sit in your chair," Cal told him, prying Lewis's hands off of him to step away from the kid's chair.

Lewis, standing on his seat, reached over for the boxes and pried back the lid. "The meat one," he noted. "Mum what's that one?" He pointed to the other. Probably weighing up his options.

"Olives," Gillian called from the kitchen where she was getting paper napkins.

"What?" Lewis turned to Cal.

"Pardon," he corrected, brushing the flat open fingers of his right hand over those of his left hand.

"Pardon," Lewis repeated.

"Olives," Cal informed him.

"Yucky," Lewis screwed up his nose.

"Yummy!" Cal told him with a laugh. He let Lewis grab a slice of the pepperoni, then slid the box to the side so he and Gillian could get to the one with olives. "So I've been thinkin'," Cal started.

"About what?" Gillian asked absently, taking her seat.

"My memories."

Gillian looked up surprised. "What about them?" She asked warily. She didn't mean to be cautious but that was how she felt. That was simply how it was.

"I want them back," Cal told her pointedly, his blue eyes boring into hers.

Gillian wasn't sure what to say to that. Lewis looked up, noticing the silence, his gaze drifting between his parents. "Can we not talk about that right now?" Gillian requested, giving a gesture with her eyes towards Lewis when he happened to not be looking at her. She meant 'later' when they were alone.

"All right," Cal agreed taking a bite of his pizza. He gave Lewis a nudge with his knee. "How was your day?"

Lewis, who was in the process of picking the pepperoni off his pizza to eat separately, one at a time, launched into a tale, full of vague gestures and half signed words, about what he had got up to that day.

Gillian made a 'W' hand and tapped it against her mouth, looking at Cal and pointing at him while Lewis talked. Cal glanced at her and nodded. Gillian went to the fridge to get a family sized bottle of water. Her fingers brushed over the two bouquets of flowers Cal and Lewis had drawn for her several weeks ago now, and her mind drifted back to the obscene ache his lack of memory brought out in her. She tried so hard to shut it down, to let it go, to work through it. But the truth was, she wanted his memories back too.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: it's very nice to read your lovely reviews. Thank you so much. _

**PJ**

Gillian gave Lewis one last kiss goodnight and straightened up, picking her way carefully through the mess of his bedroom floor to the door. She pulled it almost closed and walked away towards the master bedroom down the hallway. Cal was sitting up in bed, reading, a t-shirt covering his chest. She felt a flare of disappointment; she quite enjoyed looking at his body these days. Not that she didn't before... it was just that now... with the gym...

Gillian closed their bedroom door and crossed to the bed quickly. Cal half glanced up from the page. "In bed?"

"Yes," Gillian confirmed. Lewis was in bed but he wasn't asleep. Cal was in bed but he wasn't asleep either. Now might be a good time to talk to him. Not about her thing though. His thing. His thing was more pressing now after his small improvised exploding conversation device. "Cal, what you said at dinner?"

"Hm?" He half glanced up again. It meant he wasn't listening. Gillian was torn. Interrogate him now or get ready for bed and then do it? Bed first, conversation after that; then she wouldn't have to get up again. So she stripped down and pulled on clean pyjamas. She didn't feel her husband's eyes on her as she changed and she figured at least he had learnt how to focus properly now. Gillian brushed her teeth and was shortly joined by Cal at the sink. He reached for his brush as well. "Forgot," he explained to her sheepishly; toothpaste was next. She couldn't go five minutes without being reminded how much his brain injury affected everything. She felt a pang of nerves. What she had to tell him... She had no idea how he was going to take it.

They met back in bed. Gillian didn't bother reaching for her book. She wanted to talk to him. And when he came back in and saw her waiting expectantly, he knew. He put his book away, turned over to face her in bed, mimicked her position, lying on his side, head propped up on his hand. He waited for her to go first. "What did you mean at dinner? About getting your memories back?" It wasn't like they had been confiscated for bad behaviour. It wasn't like they were stored in a safety deposit box. Getting them back wasn't going to be as easy as making a phone call; cashing in a favour.

Cal reached for her hand, took it, linked their fingers, bruised her wedding band into her flesh. "I know it's not gonna be simple. Can't go down to the store and pick them up."

Ok, it was creepy when he did that.

"But there has to be somethin' we can do. I've been lookin' into it. The memory thing. And my case of amnesia. It's not normal for so much time to be missin'."

"Normal?" Gillian queried warily.

"Anterior amnesia, forgettin' stuff afta the accident, that's all right. I don't rememba bein' in the hospital. Just the last few weeks in the rehab centre," Cal explained. "And you know the rest of it."

Meaning he had trouble with remembering phone numbers, names, faces, addresses; all of that was linked to that kind of amnesia. Gillian nodded. She knew. She had done reading of her own. How could she not with something this big?

"But the stuff before, the retrograde amnesia. That should cova before the accident, minutes, seconds, maybe a few hours. I read one case of a man who lost six months prior but not seven years Gill, that's not right."

"What are you saying?" She asked lightly, trying to understand. What had he been snooping around in? Was this what he was doing in his office while they were at work?

"I'm sayin' seven years is pretty much undocumented. And I'm sayin' those long-term memories should be comin' back a little, on their own."

"Maybe you need a bit more time for that to happen."

"Sure," he gave a half-hearted shrug. "Maybe I need more time for that to happen."

She sensed the 'but' before he could say it.

"But I've been thinkin' maybe I need a nudge in the right direction."

"A nudge?"

"Yeah, you know, a little healthy encouragement. I mean," he looked her right in the eye and held it. "What if they neva come back?"

What if indeed? Honestly? The thought made her feel ill. "We'll deal with that," Gillian reiterated. She squeezed his fingers and he squeezed back but he didn't break the intense gaze he had her trapped in. That could possibly mean he didn't believe her. Or that he was waiting for her to get to the same conclusion as he had.

"What if they just need to be led in the right direction? I can feel them there. I just can't get to them."

Gillian narrowed her eyes slightly, a reaction to being able to follow his thought process, not to what he was suggesting. What he was proposing actually sounded pretty good. "Re-wire the neural pathways you mean?"

"Yeah," his eyes lit up a little now that she had cottoned on.

"Ok," Gillian agreed slowly. So far it sounded good; simple enough in theory. But what about in practice? "And how do you plan on doing that?" Because he must have a plan, he always had a trick up his sleeve.

"Well, I was thinkin'," Cal started. So he _had_ been thinking about this because he barely paused. This was a rehearsed speech and Gillian was very much aware that he had taken her hand to lead her down the path. "Hypnotherapy."

"Hypnotherapy?" Gillian repeated surprised. She might have expected him to say something along the lines of 'surgery' or some cutting edge technique she was totally going to object to for risk of making him a vegetable for good.

"I've seen you work with various people with regressed memories."

"That's memory regression Cal. That's kind of different."

"Is it?" He insisted. "Seven years Gillian. That's almost our entire relationship. Our romantic one certainly, and I can't for the life of me figa out why, because we're happy aren't we?"

"Yes," Gillian immediately responded. "Of course we're happy."

Cal narrowed his eyes slightly at her, as if doubting her, or wanting to question her further on that. She should have sold it better; she realised her mistake too late. It was the truth though. She pulled his hand closer to her, gripping it tighter and leaned in to press a kiss against his cheek, nuzzling into his neck, their chests resting together. "Of course we're happy Cal," she repeated, feeling it to be true despite that little flash of doubt. She hoped this time, without seeing her face, he would listen to her body, to her words, and believe her. "I love you. Yes, we've had our moments and yes we've had some problems to overcome, but despite all of that, I love you, and that makes me happy."

Cal gave a very slight laugh of delight and used the back of his hand to press her in tight. "I love you too. And that makes me happy," he murmured over her shoulder.

Gillian pulled back to see his face and gave him a smile. "Good."

Cal's smile got a little wider. He leaned forward to plant a proper kiss on her lips. "So what do you think?" He pressed.

"Hypnotherapy," Gillian repeated again. "It could work. I don't see how it would hurt to try." She tried to be positive but she did sound a little dubious.

"Thank you," Cal added.

"You don't need my permission," Gillian told him with a little laugh. They had never had that kind of relationship.

"Kind of do if you're gonna help me."

"Wait," Gillian suddenly clicked. She pulled back. Disengaged their fingers. "You want me to do it?"

"Who else would do it?"

"Uh, someone who..."

"Doesn't know me?" Cal finished.

"Well. Yeah, someone who can be objective."

"And you can't?"

"Cal... You're my husband."

"Which makes you more qualified than anyone else to do it. You know what are memories and what is me merely makin' somethin' up. You'll know what to press, what to get into, what to ignore for bein' irrelevant."

"Oh you have memories you want to connect with in particular?" Gillian accused lightly.

"Come on," Cal told her gently. "You know I want to connect with the memories to do with you, me and Lewis. If a case comes up, it's not the same."

"What if the case was significant because it taught you something about us?"

Cal blinked rapidly to that, like he hadn't thought of that possibility before.

"I won't know that," Gillian pointed out.  
>"I don't trust anyone else," Cal admitted. "To do delve around up there," he gestured to his head, giving her a flash of vulnerability.<p>

Gillian suppressed a sigh. How could she say no to that? She hadn't yet. "Have you talked to Doctor Rockwell about your memories?"

"Yeah but he seems less interested in those than whetha I can touch my nose with my index finga and walk in a straight line without takin' a nose dive."

"I suppose that's outside of his field of expertise," Gillian agreed. "What about Doctor Wu?"

Cal gave a slight shrug. "Mostly we talk about you." He gave her a funny expression as if he found the subject matter distasteful and then laughed it off. But she recognised the truth when she saw it and it made her feel a little funny inside. Almost proud. Perhaps a little flattered. Should she be worried?

"I've told him I'm frustrated to not have my memories back. And that I worry about how it will affect you and me." He went back to his earnest expression, the one that tugged at Gillian's heart strings. "They should start to come back on their own," he added.

"So give them time to."

"You're sayin' you don't wanna try the hypnotherapy thing?"

"I don't know," Gillian admitted. "I need to think about it."

"Is there somethin', did somethin' happen, that would make me want to repress it all?" He took her hand again, forced her to look him in the eye.

"No Cal. Nothing I can think of." Because he wasn't asking about some big event that would make him want to run and hide, he was asking her if it was their marriage he was trying to avoid, on some sub-conscious level, or her. "At least not that I know of."

Cal glanced down at the mattress for a second. Either that or he was attempting to glance down the front of the loose shirt she planned on falling asleep in. "You'd know though right?" His blue eyes glanced up at her again, holding her, studying her. "If I wasn't happy?"

"Yes I'd know," Gillian confirmed.

Cal nodded firmly. "And you wouldn't lie about that, would you?"

"I wouldn't lie to you," Gillian responded firmly.

Cal nodded again and Gillian found herself nodding along with him to cement her confirmation. "Please help me with this."

"I'll try," Gillian said, still nodding, still holding his gazing, her heart still pounding in time with his. What wouldn't she do if he asked?

**PJ**

Gillian slept curled up in Cal's arms and despite the fact that it was uncomfortably warm. Despite the fact that the temperature was dropping outside and the leaves were falling from the trees, Cal wouldn't have pushed her away for a second. He liked her being close. It seemed to soothe something within him he didn't even understand. Even the mornings he woke up and they were on opposite sides of the bed, he shifted to huddle up behind her. Gillian didn't mind either. She never once pushed him away. She was a snuggler too. Cal wanted to have his seven years of cuddling memories back.

There were a lot of memories he wanted back. He wanted to know what it was like to wake up with her when she was six months pregnant with Lewis and it was a beautiful morning and they spooned; sleepy warmth. Or Lewis's first Christmas. Or how about the last Christmas? When Lewis was old enough to remember it. Or... did they ever go away on holiday as a family? There was so much. Not just the big events. Those he knew about. In a vague awareness kind of way. But it was the smaller details that were getting to him now. How had it felt to find out she was finally pregnant? Those were the things she couldn't tell him about. Those were the things he was supposed to reminisce over himself from time to time; those were the things that shaped him. Gillian told him about the tough times, that was fine, but what about all the good times? Where were those stories? Or were there none? Even more disconcerting.

Cal teased her a little about taking on the role of pessimist in their marriage but he was actually very accurate. Gillian had become a pessimist and he the optimist and when he stopped to think, it was a very sorry state of affairs that had lead to that reversal. Poor Gillian. All those years. Had being married to him actually destroyed her soul a little? The thought crushed his heart. And made him inadvertently tighten his arms around her while she slept on, tangible and warm against his body.

"Mm," Gillian stirred. She stretched against him, pressing her body tightly along the length of his, the full expanse of it, before relaxing again. "Time is it?"

Cal craned his neck to see the clock on her bedside table. "Early."

"Mm," she repeated but this time sounding dissatisfied. "Sleep ok?"

"Yeah I slept just fine," Cal assured her. "Did you?"

"Huh."

Cal chuckled lightly. "You're not a mornin' person at all are you?"

"Meh," Gillian pressed her nose in against his neck.

Cal brought up a hand to smooth back her hair from her neck, then ran his fingers over the skin exposed there. He waited for her to wake up. He wanted to know if she had done much thinking last night after they had said they were going to sleep. "Gill?"

"Hm?"

"Did you think about what we talked about last night?" Ok so his patience was shot to shit at the moment.

"Mmmm," she gave a lazy moan and gripped at his arm tighter, turning her head firmer against his skin. "I don't... sleep... think."

Cal gave her ear a funny expression. Was that her way of telling him to wait for her to wake the hell up? Fair enough. Cal shifted slightly, further down the bed so their bodies aligned, so they were the same height. Her toes pressed against an ankle, the other against the soft inside of his foot. She held him tighter, her nose now against his cheek. She gave his lips a soft press. "Hi," she murmured.

"Hi," Cal repeated, hooking his arm over her waist to press his hand into the small of her back.

"You see Wu?"

"Yes, mid-mornin'," Cal affirmed.

"Talk to him hypno. See what he says."

"All right," Cal agreed.

"And then from there."

"Ok," Cal repeated. He kissed her forehead firmly, almost hushing her.

She suddenly threw back the covers and shifted away from his embrace. "God!" Her eyes came open and she flicked hair back from her mouth. Her legs kicked the blankets all the way down to the foot of the bed. "It's so hot. Aren't you hot!"

"No," Cal responded amused, watching her as she seemed to pant to catch her breath. Her shirt had ridden up to expose the flat expanse of her stomach and after a moment she stretched again, a full body flex of muscles, her hands gripping the wooden frame of the bed above her head, her back arching off the mattress. Good lord.

Then she sat up and looked at him over her shoulder. "I sleep so much better with you here," she told him and leaned down to give him a kiss. A decent kiss this time. Not so chaste.

"Mm," Cal agreed, delighted at the level of her morning attentiveness all of a sudden.

"Come and have a shower with me," Gillian murmured against his mouth.

Cal agreed to that too.


	3. Chapter 3

Cal approached the red brick building and pushed on the door to step into the lobby. It had the typical hush of a library; the feel of people trying so very hard to be quiet for fear of getting told off. He walked in further, looking for signs pointing to the reference section. Then he followed the numbers down the row to the area Kent said he'd be waiting in after school. He attended the British School of Washington, a five minute walk from the Georgetown Public Library. A private school. Because he was deaf. Cal spotted the boy in his formal school dress code, long sleeved shirt, tie, black formal trousers, sitting at a group of tables, a few books in front of him. His legs were stretched out under the furniture and he seemed to be staring at a spot of carpet intently. Cal approached behind him and gave his shoulder a squeeze, the same way he tended to get Lewis's attention when the boy hadn't heard him. Maybe they should think about private school for Lewis.

Kent jumped and turned his head abruptly, giving Cal a broad grin when he recognised him. Cal moved around the table to sit next to Kent on the opposite corner. He gave a wave of hello. Kent waved back and made the same gesture he had in the hospital. Shit, Cal had forgotten to look it up. He shook his head slightly; he didn't know. Kent gave him a glare and 'tsked' him. He moved his right hand to his mouth, the fingers grouped together tightly, then moved the hand slightly towards his cheek before moving it right down to rest over the wrist of his left hand, closing the fingers into a fist. Cal gave a shrug to that too. Kent reached for a book and threw it at Cal gently, leaned over to tap the cover sharply. Cal opened the book and flipped through but he had no idea where to start. Kent confiscated the book again, flipping to the 'H' section, found a page and pointed to the sign. Homework. Cal laughed. He nodded. "Fair enough. I've been busy," he implored.

Kent shook his head at Cal, made the sign for 'sign', the big Ferris wheel 'one' hands and tapped the book again. He pointed to Cal and made the sign for 'sign' again. Then he crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat back in his chair waiting. Cal flipped through the book for 'B', found 'busy'; a 'B' hand shape brushed back and forth along the closed left hand quickly, so the palm was facing outwards away from the body.

Kent nodded he understood. He signed 'busy' with a questioning expression and pointed to Cal. Cal flipped through the book to 'W', found work, signed that too (two 'S' shape hands, the dominant tapping palm down onto the back of the other). Kent nodded. He signed something else to Cal, another question from the expression on the young man's face. Cal figured it was 'what you...' and then he was lost. Kent took the book out of Cal's grasp, found the right page for him, pointed out the last sign, the right hand pretending to grasp something from the open palm of the left hand, then moving towards the head, the fingers closing, like the sign was literally trying to cram information into the brain. Cal thought for a moment. He really didn't remember much at all. But maybe if he was having hypnotherapy to get his memories back the signing would return to. And that would make these lessons with Kent redundant. No they wouldn't. Cal was sure Kent could teach him a lot. And Lewis. And maybe Gillian if she wanted to come and hang out.

Cal flipped through the book and found 'start' then searched further to find 'easy' and signed the two words together to Kent, who waited so patiently for Cal to find what he was looking for. He could have just mouthed the words. Or written them down. But that wouldn't be learning would it? And Cal got the distinct impression his tutor would bust out a ruler and rap him across the knuckles with it for misbehaving.

Even if Cal's signing was slow and unsure Kent seemed to understand. He nodded anyway and took the book from Cal. He produced a piece of paper from his bag and a pencil and wrote something down at the top of the lined page. He pushed it over to Cal who read it quickly. 'How are you?' And in brackets, how Cal should sign it, How You? Kent signed it, showing Cal how he had his hands and fingers, the specific starting points for the gestures of the hands. Cal mimicked it a few times until he was fluent. Kent nodded his approval. He reached for the paper again and wrote something else down. When he was finished he showed it to Cal. There were several responses. 'Good, bad, thank you'. Then they went over those.

The next hour progressed, until Cal could hold the world's most basic conversation in American Sign. But at least, to his great surprise, the signing seemed to settle in his mind easily enough. Probably because he had learnt it before. He didn't have to stop so much and spend ages to recall the signs; they were there easily enough. His gestures might have been a little lazy or slow but when Kent grilled him at the end, signing questions, Cal didn't have to stop and think of the answers. He understood what Kent was asking him and he knew what he wanted to say in response. It wasn't just learning or memorising the correct answers, it was knowing. It gave Cal hope. He wasn't going to completely suck at this. No matter how daunting it felt seeing Lewis and Gillian sign so comfortably.

As the hour came to an end Kent suddenly reached for his phone in his pocket. He signed 'Mom' to Cal, indicating who the message was from. Then he signed 'home' and Cal had to look it up. Kent laughed and found Cal the right page, pointed to the sign; closed fingers against the mouth, then moving up towards the ear. Cal nodded he understood. He thought about offering Kent a ride. Thought better of it. He'd have to get his license back first; nearly forgot he didn't have it! And Kent's mother would need to trust him a bit more. Cal checked his wrist for the time, forgetting once again that his watch was missing. He pulled his phone instead. It was time to go and get Lewis. Cal thanked Kent who suggested they meet again at the end of the week and Cal agreed readily. Kent put the books back on the shelf where he had got them from and gestured for Cal to take the paper with their notes. He signed 'homework' again and Cal nodded. He would practice. On Gillian if he had to.

They went their separate ways after a handshake, which Kent seemed delighted with. Cal wondered what his deal was. Did he not have many friends? No father figure? Or did he have a slight crush on Cal? In which case, he had to be extra careful. He went to pick Lewis up, deciding to take the boy on the bus, seeing as it was a nice afternoon and where else did they have to be? He text Gillian to tell her they were at home and he was making dinner; that his lesson with Kent had been great and he would tell her what Doctor Wu had said about the hypnotherapy when she got home. She text him 'ok', which meant she was in the middle of something.

Cal turned to Lewis, who was hovering, something he did when he wanted to hang out but was unsure if his father was busy and about to dismiss him. "What shall we make for dinna?"

"Oooh!" Lewis's face lit up. "Um. Something."

"Yeah somethin'," Cal agreed. "Come and help me pick." He headed for the pantry, Lewis close behind him, pushing through his legs to get in front, between his father and the shelves. Cal lifted him, wrapping his arms tightly around the four year old and holding him against his body.

**PJ**

When Gillian got home a few hours later the house smelt like food and her stomach cramped at her desperately and she almost literally started salivating. How had she let herself get starving? She could hear the laughter of her boys as she neared the kitchen and found them at the table playing a card game. Lewis was giggling loudly and Cal was smirking and neither of their attention was on her. She watched them for a moment, that warm gooey feeling releasing inside her. Her boys.

And then Cal glanced up and spotted her. "Hi," he greeted with a smile.

"Hi," she smiled back, putting her purse down on the end of the breakfast bar, her spot.

Lewis turned his head as he realised his father wasn't paying attention to him anymore. "Hi Mum!" He waved enthusiastically.

"Hi Lewis," Gillian greeted back.

Cal instructed Lewis to pack the game away and got up. He approached her quickly and planted a kiss on her lips. "Dinna is practically ready if you wanna eat now."

"Yes I'm _starving_," Gillian admitted.

Cal gave her a quirk of an eyebrow. "Set the table then," he instructed.

Gillian did as she was told, helping supervise Lewis in putting the cards away. He got knives and forks. Gillian got plates and set out the place mats. Cal brought over their meal, which looked like a mix of leftovers and pasta bake. It was fantastic and she tucked in hungrily. Cal asked how her day was. She told him it was just fine. "How was yours? How's Kent?"

"Kent is great," Cal responded affectionately. He laughed suddenly and told her how serious he was, telling Cal off and the frustrated little huff he gave when Cal didn't know what the hell he was on about.

"This is nummy," Lewis interrupted.

"That's good buddy," Cal told him.

"Can I have more?"

"When you finish what's on your plate," Cal answered.

"And Doctor Wu?" Gillian prompted, a nervous haze in her stomach. Cal hadn't poured her wine for dinner. So he had clearly cottoned on to the fact she wasn't drinking anymore.

"Well actually, that's a funny story. He does have experience with hypnotherapy. Uses it regularly on memory regression and a few otha techniques," Cal waved his own comments away with a dismissive hand. "But anyway, he said it was somethin' we could try. Tomorrow mornin'."

Gillian felt a thump in her chest. "That soon?" She was hopeful. She didn't care that she was letting herself feel that way.

Cal nodded. "Yeah, first thing. Wait, there wasn't somethin' at work I was meant to do was there?"

Gillian shook her head. "No it's fine. Tomorrow is fine."

"Are you all right with that?"

"Yes. It's just very soon. I'm surprised."

"Yeah so am I, but what's the point in waitin'?"

That was a good argument.

"You know, if you wanna come, I would still want you there," Cal added quietly, putting his fork down on his empty plate.

Gillian regarded him gently. "I know but I think this is something you need to do on your own. We can find our own project. I think you should deal with your memories yourself. There could be things in there that I'm not meant to know."

Cal gave a slight smile, the little upturn of his lip that said he was amused. "That's a good point." He looked over at Lewis who had mashed his dinner around the plate and onto the place mat beneath. "Finished?"

Lewis shook his head. Cal got up anyway. He cleared Gillian's empty plate too and she was struck with another pang of anxiety. She needed to tell him her thing. Now. Before she chickened out. Or at least tonight. She should probably wait for Lewis to go to bed, otherwise he would get in their faces and want to know what the big secret was.

When Lewis had finished eating, Gillian supervised him cleaning up his mess and taking his plate to the kitchen, where Cal was in the process of doing the dishes. Gillian packed the leftovers into a plastic container and put it in the fridge. Leftover, leftovers. She might take that to work tomorrow and have it for her lunch. So long as she could get to it first in the morning and not have Cal attempt to commandeer it. She felt warm arms around her waist and a kiss on her neck. She sighed into her husband, leaning against him. "You seem tense," he murmured against her skin.

"Yeah," Gillian sighed. Had to tell him.

"Perhaps a nice massage tonight? Hm? Put Lewis to bed early?"

"So tempting. But... I need, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"I don't want to say just yet."

"Should I be worried?"

Maybe.

"Tell you later ok?"

"All right," Cal agreed but his voice sounded reluctant and he stepped away from her slowly.

'_Oh God_,' Gillian thought. This was going to throw him for a loop.

So Cal hung out with Lewis and gave Gillian space when what she really needed was a distraction. And finally when Lewis asked if it was all right to watch TV before bed and Cal said it was, Gillian marched over from where she had been making the shopping list in the kitchen and took his arm and dragged him next door to the formal living room for privacy.

"Geeze," Cal laughed. "Can't you wait for the kid to at least be asleep?"

"Not that," Gillian huffed and dragged him down on to the couch next to her and met his eye. He might have laughed just now but she looked worried. "What's goin' on Gill?" He asked again, his eyes hard on hers.

Gillian stared and stared and oh god she was so nervous it was ridiculous. This shouldn't be so hard. "I," she started and stopped. So she hadn't actually planned this and she should have, because, no, it wouldn't be easy, but it really should not be this difficult. She should not be such a wuss. But there was all that history...

"I'm," she tried again and she saw the flicker of raw fear in Cal's eyes.

"Are you sick?" He queried barely above a whisper.

Gillian shook her head. "No. Not that. I'm," she hesitated one last time, closed her eyes and blurted it out. "I'm pregnant."


	4. Chapter 4

Now that wasn't so hard. So why did she feel like throwing up? Oh, that was probably her hormones asserting themselves. She had been lucky so far to keep the feeling to a minimum. And then there was all that emotional baggage and an incredible amount of complications. Gillian opened her eyes again to check Cal's reaction. He had gone very still, his face slack. "You're what?" He asked.

"Pregnant," Gillian said again, slowly, feeling her stomach leap around, her heart stammering, her arms were twitchy and she fought down the urge to get up and pace the room. Or run.

"Are you sure?" Cal's face was stricken, his blue eyes wide.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Cos them pee on a stick thingies aren't always a hundred percent."

"Blood test sure Cal. Sonogram sure." She had reacted much like he was when she was told by her doctor. She didn't believe it. The blood test must be wrong, never mind that he had run it twice to check; the first time to rule out the anomaly of hormone levels, the second time to be sure it was in fact a positive pregnancy. The confirmation sonogram was what had done it. There wasn't much to see in regards to the embryo, it was barely the size of a pencil's eraser, but she could see the pulsating dot of its heartbeat, even if she couldn't hear it yet, and the outline of the amniotic sac. But that had been enough to convince her. How could it not? There was certainly something in there. She was definitely pregnant.

"But," he gaped at her, his eyes boring into hers as he sat so still, like Lewis when he had just been busted doing something he shouldn't. As if making himself stone-like might mean he went unnoticed. "How?" He asked in disbelief.

Gillian gave a slight shake of her head. She didn't really understand how. "A fluke I guess," was all she could manage. Because it wasn't like they had even been _trying. _They hadn't even been thinking about it in the slightest, what with New York and Lily in their back catalogue of failures on this subject. And with her fertility issues coupled with the fact that she hadn't had a period in a year, and should technically have gone through the 'change', it must have been a cosmic joke she was pregnant. A right laugh, as Cal would say. Sometimes she still didn't believe it. A week was not enough time for it to sink in. She fully understood where Cal was coming from right now.

"A," Cal started and stopped again. His mouth hung open for a second. "I mean..." he trailed off again. "When?"

Gillian waited for more information but Cal just sat there dumbly, imploring her with his eyes. She wondered what was going through his brain right now. Anything at all? Or just complete shock? "When did I find out or when am I due?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

Gillian blinked, waiting for more and when she still didn't get it, decided she should be a bit more proactive in this conversation; help him out. "April twentieth. That's when I'm due. And I found out last week."

"Why didn't you tell me as soon as you found out?"

"Because you needed to focus. Remember? One project at a time."

"Right," Cal nodded, because that was his life now. Carefully controlled pieces; he couldn't work on a million things at the same time.

"I absolutely meant to tell you. As soon as all of that was over."

Cal reached out to place his hand over hers, silencing her. That didn't matter, he was trying to tell her. "So? How far along are you exactly? My mental arithmetic is a bit shoddy."

"About eight weeks."

"Jesus!" Cal exclaimed. "How did you not? Before now?"

Gillian gave him a sheepish expression and looked away. If he had his memories he wouldn't be asking her that. "I don't exactly have a great track record for knowing," she revealed softly, mumbling to the couch cushion. "I've never known."

"Right," Cal quickly backtracked; that obviously upset her. "So." So what? What did he say to that? "Eight weeks," he mused. "I wasn't even livin' here eight weeks ago. Oh god! Really? Eight weeks?" Gillian nodded, looking a little bewildered. Cal winced. "Please no. The hospital? That's terrible."

"Why?" Gillian asked cautiously.

"Cos it wasn't exactly my finest moment and you didn't get anythin' out of it."

"Well," Gillian hummed. "I got a baby out of it. So I technically did." She met his eye again, that assuredness was back as they both relaxed into the conversation. Cal hadn't completely lost it and that went a long way to assuaging Gillian's fears. Probably helped he didn't realise the significance of New York or Lily's death.

"A baby," Cal repeated. His face softened and he suddenly broke into a smile. "A baby Gill."

"Yeah," she agreed, a soft smile of her own.

"Anotha one," Cal repeated. He pulled her gently into a hug, his arm around the back of her shoulder, his head resting against her ear. He held her for a moment and then pulled back. "Anotha one," he said again, this time with a grin in his eyes.

Gillian smiled tentatively. She nodded. "Another one."

Cal gave a slight laugh, "I really can't believe it." But he did because Gillian could see it sinking in now and the joy on his face made her stomach feel light, like it was filling up with helium to bump into her diaphragm. Then his face got serious again. "Wait, are you all right? I mean, have you been sick or?"  
>"Slightly nauseous," Gillian admitted. "And tired. But I'm fine. The baby's fine."<p>

Cal nodded looking concerned. "So you've been to the docta's just once?"

"Yeah."

"I would have gone with you."

"I didn't know," Gillian reminded him. "What I was going for. It was a shock to me too."

Cal nodded. "Right."

They sat quietly for a moment. Cal's fingers had found their way through Gillian's and he absently stroked and squeezed. "Are you all right with havin' anotha baby?" Cal met her eyes again.

Gillian nodded slowly. "I think so." How could she not!

"Cos you know if you're not... you can..." he gave a vague gesture with his hand in lieu of words.

It took Gillian a split second, but she did cotton on. She shook her head vigorously.

"Of course not," Cal jumped in immediately. "And I'm not sayin' I would want that eitha. I just thought I'd put it out there." He squeezed her hand firmly, held the tension for a long moment, stared her in the eye, made her understand, there was no pressure for her to go through with the pregnancy if she didn't want to. Of course she wanted to, but he was just saying.

**PJ**

Pregnant. Cal couldn't believe it. He really couldn't. It had to be some sort of joke. He watched as Gillian undressed for bed that night and finally he could see it. Her breasts were bigger, her skin had darkened a little on her chest, the mark of pregnancy, like a big birthmark. How had he not clicked? He knew what it meant to live with a pregnant woman; he knew what they looked like naked. And how had he not clicked what her no longer drinking coffee in the morning meant, or more that she cut it down with so much milk it must have been weak as shit. And no more alcohol. Or the massive stack of what must be pre-natal vitamins, not just some health kick she was suddenly on. She _did_ complain of being tired. How could he be so blind?

Stupid brain injury.

When Cal woke up the next morning he studied his wife in the dimness. She seemed peaceful in her sleep. That was good. She should rest. Their legs were tangled so when he shifted to see her better she stirred, frowned, told him that watching her sleep was creepy. Cal whispered an apology. "Just admirin' the view."

She gave him a sleepy smile, eyes still closed and reached out a hand blindly to his chest, trailing her fingers down. "Did you sleep?"

"Yes."

"Kay," she mumbled.

"Course I did have things on my mind."

"Hm," Gillian agreed.

"Gill, are you excited about the baby?"

"Sometimes. Other times I'm scared."

"Scared about what?" Cal asked concerned, lowering himself down to his pillow again, gently, so he wouldn't shake her about. His wife. His beautiful wife was pregnant. He was going to be a father again. Amazing.

"About how you would take it. About how old I am. About how... If the baby will be healthy." She cracked an eye to look at him. "Probably seems silly."

"No," Cal reassured her gently. "Not silly." Though he didn't know why he told her it wasn't. He had no justification. It seemed important to reassure her though. "Gill we didn't talk about the hypnotherapy."

"What about it?"

"Well." Ok so maybe they had talked about it last night but...

"I think you should go for it Cal."

"But you're not gonna come with me?"

"No. I think it's something you need to do on your own."

"We talked about havin' a project to work on togetha."

"I think having a baby covers that."

Cal looked over at her. But of course, she would have known that yesterday. The eye was closed again. He wanted to kiss her.

"I want you to try and get your memories back. Because I don't want to go through this alone."

"You're not alone," Cal assured her.

"It feels like I am."

At least she was being honest with him. Finally; or still. She was letting go, little by little, like sand falling through the fingers of the fist she had been holding onto too tightly. Eventually she would be able to open her fingers and brush the last remnants against her leg and just walk away. But Cal didn't want her to get to that point, or more, he didn't want her to have to get to that point. If she let go, she let go of their entire past. And who was going to pass it down to the next generation? Who was going to tell Lewis about the way his father had proposed? Their past was their legacy. And Cal felt rotten for it not being there. Not guilty, it wasn't his fault, but he felt he had to do something. He also ran the risk of pinning too much on hypnotherapy. It didn't work for everyone. He did border on cynical most of the time. But he had to do something. And he didn't have a lot of options.

Cal brought up a hand to trace his fingers lightly over the bare skin of her arm. Gillian gave a little pleased hum in response and a squirm where she lay. Pregnant. Again. Really? Good lord. "I'll try," Cal promised her.

Her hand came up to capture his fingers and she tugged him closer so they were in a weird kind of embrace, their arms between their bodies. "I know. And if it doesn't work it doesn't matter. No pressure ok?" Her eye came open again, regarded him heavily. He nodded dutifully. It didn't feel like pressure, not from her, but he so desperately didn't want to let her down. He didn't want the universe to let him down, not again. He'd been a good boy that year. He deserved some kind of reward didn't he? "We've got each other. That's enough. That's always been enough. That we have each other and that we're honest."

Honest. Huh. Ok. "Gill, there's somethin' else I should probably tell you."

He felt her body stiffen slightly. She expected the worst. It didn't surprise him that was her first response. Too many tough times. Not enough good ones. He was going to work on that.

"In the interest of bein' honest."

"Ok," the eye regarded him carefully.

"I stopped takin' my anti-seizure meds."


	5. Chapter 5

Gillian sat up slowly, brushing hair out of her face, sleep from her eyes. She seemed to take a moment to gather herself and then she asked slowly, "Why?"

Cal sat up too, not breaking her eye contact. "They made me feel weird. Look how focussed I've been since I stopped takin' them."

"You can't just stop taking something because you feel weird. You need to talk to your doctors about it."

"I did try talkin' to Rockwell."

Gillian pursed her lips. Not a good sign. Cal shifted again to grip her arm gently, just above her elbow. "Look I had surgery to get rid of the seizures. The success rate for that kind of operation is ninety percent. I looked it up. So what do I need to take meds for? The side effects for the particula brand I was on are difficulty in concentratin' and mental sluggishness. Does that not sound like me?"

"When did you stop?"

"A few weeks ago."

Something changed slightly in her face and Cal knew he had her. It was true though, since he had stopped taking them, he had been able to focus a whole lot better. Look what he had achieved with Rader and that little shit Roberts.

"Aren't you supposed to be on them to get your licence back? You're going to need to be able to drive when the baby comes. I can't be a chauffeur forever."

"Yeah but I didn't know about the baby at the time," Cal pointed out gently. "And no I don't necessarily have to be medicated to get my licence back. The surgery and a letta from my docta will be enough. Plus I have to be seizure free for ninety days. Which I have. But Rockwell wants to count it from when I left the hospital. That's why I can't get it back yet."

Gillian nodded. She knew all this. Cal had already told her. She gave him a shove, "You're so annoying sometimes."

"Why cos I'm right about the meds?"

"No, cos you're annoying," Gillian reiterated.

Cal laughed and leaned in to give her a kiss. Gillian pushed against his chest again. "No," she tried to fend him off. She fell back against the mattress, still trying to push him away as he leaned down over her. Damn him for being stronger. "You're wrong about the meds Cal. You should have talked to Rockwell."

"I tried talkin' to Rockwell," Cal told her again, his voice muffled against her shoulder as he tried to right his balance.

"Yeah so you try again, make him listen," Gillian tried to undermine his attempts at gaining the upper hand.

"I don't really want to be takin' so much medication."

"You should talk to Rockwell about that too."

Cal sighed and straightened up. He stopped fighting her and gazed down, leaning on his elbow so he was still over her. "Everythin's by the book with you isn't it?" He teased.

Gillian glared at him and then suddenly she looked horrified. "Move," she told him shortly and Cal, startled, obliged. Gillian kicked roughly to get free, rushing for the bathroom with her hand over her mouth and a second later, the sound of her throwing up filtered into the bedroom.

And there was the morning sickness. Cal untangled himself from the covers and headed for the bathroom. He stopped outside the door, hesitant. Did she want him to go in there and comfort her? Or would she prefer to upend her stomach in private? Memories would have come in handy here. Cal half turned towards the bed and then made his decision. He was going in. His first instinct was to comfort her, he should listen to that. Gillian was the kind of person who liked to be held when she was upset. This counted. She was kneeling on the floor over the toilet. The natural glow from the sunlight in the roof set the room into a weird grey. Cal opened her drawer in the vanity and found a hair band. He gathered her hair from her fingers and her clammy neck and tied it back carefully so he didn't pull. The smell of bile made his stomach feel sour too but he clamped his jaw shut and ignored it. He found a clean cloth under the sink and ran it under the cold tap, then turned back to Gillian who was spitting away the taste of sick. Cal reached over and flushed the loo. Gillian sat back against his legs, slumping and gave a small whimper. She was fiery hot; Cal could feel her heat through her shirt on his bare legs. He gently tilted her head back so he could wipe around her mouth. He flipped the cloth over, ran it over her face slowly, gently, so it would be refreshing, then down and around her neck too.

"Feels good," Gillian murmured.

"Finished?" Cal queried lightly.

Gillian gave a huff. "I don't know. But no more pushing me around in the morning ok?"

"Ok," Cal agreed easily. And perhaps he could lay off doing the reckless things he was used to doing. She was pregnant. He had promised her she wouldn't be alone. The last thing she would forgive him was having a seizure behind the wheel, crashing and killing himself. What if he had Lewis in the car? She didn't even need to finish this conversation with him. He got the message loud and clear. "Sorry luv."

Gillian gave a sigh. Cal pushed the cloth down her back as far as he could reach without shoving her forward. "Mmm," she murmured appreciatively.

"You wanna move?" Cal suggested.

"No I just want to sit for a minute."

"Ok," Cal agreed. He trailed the cloth around to her front again and figured it had probably absorbed her body warmth by now. He tossed it into the sink and straightened up again. Leaning over like that made his back ache.

"Mum!"

"Cal!" Gillian whipped her head back to look up at him desperately.

"On it," he responded knowing what she was asking of him. She didn't want Lewis to witness her retching. Cal stepped back from her carefully, so she wouldn't suddenly lose her balance, then hoofed it across the bathroom. Lewis was climbing up to their bed. He saw Cal and quickly lay down, pulling the blanket over his head. Cal jumped on the bed and Lewis let rip a squeal. "What are you doin'?" Cal whipped back the covers and wiggled his fingers around his son's neck and armpits. Lewis screeched and laughed and tried to squirm away. He brought his feet up to kick but Cal captured them easily and brushed his fingers against the pads of Lewis's feet. He squealed louder, wriggled harder.

"Stop!" He cried. "Stop!"

Cal let him go and sat back on his haunches. Lewis was red in the face, tears streaming down the side of his head. He caught his breath and sat himself up. He brought an open hand to his chin, palm facing out, fingers spread, and then gave a shrug, both hands turned up. Cal made a 'T' hand shape and shook it back and forth slightly. Where's Mum? Toilet.

"Oh," Lewis noted.

"You get dressed," Cal told him. "Then breakfast."

Lewis scooted himself to the edge of the bed, tempting a parting shot. Cal leaned over quickly but Lewis danced out of his way. He pointed a finger at Cal and laughed so Cal climbed off the mattress and Lewis ran for the door. Cal could hear him squealing his way down the hallway to his room. He was picking the sheet up off the floor when Gillian emerged. "Hey," Cal approached her. "How are you doin'?"

Gillian waved an open hand at him like a seesaw. "Not sure."

"Ok, well, just take it easy," Cal placed his hands on her hips. He leaned in to kiss her temple. "Have I told you I'm thrilled we're havin' anotha baby?"

Gillian shook her head, her hands coming to rest on his biceps. She squeezed gently, feeling the resistance there. Cal leaned down to kiss her neck. He pressed his nose against her warm skin, embracing her, shifting his arms behind her back, holding her gently. "Thrilled," he repeated gently, a bubble of excitement brewing in his stomach. He felt Gillian relax against him. "Don't be afraid. Whateva happens we'll face it togetha."

She relaxed further, a strange sound coming from her throat. Cal suspected she was crying but he didn't pull her back to check. It didn't matter. "I love you," he added.

"Love you too," Gillian muttered.

**PJ**

"Good morning," Doctor Wu greeted Cal pleasantly. "How are you today?"

"Gillian's pregnant," Cal blurted after he had barely sat down.

Doctor Wu's face morphed into surprise and he held it for a long moment. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah," Cal agreed.

"When's Gillian due?"

"April," he couldn't remember the date. He should have written it down.

"That's great news. Are you happy about that?"

"Yeah," Cal nodded more enthusiastically. "I mean, mutha load of bombshells but when I think about it," he grinned. "It is fantastic."

Wu was smiling too. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks."

"And how is Gillian taking it? I assume you weren't trying to get pregnant, considering what you've told me about your fertility issues."

"I think she's as shocked as I am and is worryin' all ready. But unda that, she's thrilled." Actually, now that Cal thought about it, he would have expected more excitement from her. She seemed just slightly flat. It can't all have been about wondering how he was going to react could it? "Hang on a sec," he told Wu and pulled his phone. He set a reminder so he would ask her about it later.

"What did you say when she told you?"

"Um I think it went along the lines of 'huh?' and then otha unintelligible mutterin's."

Wu laughed slightly.

"But we talked about it and went ova the details and..." he trailed off with another smile. Another baby. Fantastic.

Wu waited patiently in silence. "Have you told anyone?"

"No, Gill only told me last night."

Oh shit, was he not meant to have said something to Wu? Gillian wouldn't mind right? Who was Wu going to tell? Was it a secret?

"I haven't really had time to process," Cal admitted. "I'm torn between disbelief and excitement and worryin' about Gill."

Wu nodded. "That's understandable." He paused. "If you would like to put off our hypnotherapy session for another day that's fine."

"No," Cal dismissed his comment gently with the wave of a hand. "It actually makes me want to get into it all the more. I'd like to know how we reacted when she was pregnant with Lewis. And how long the mornin' sickness lasted. Those things. You know?"

Wu nodded he understood.

"The fine-a details. I'm missin' them even more now," Cal added mournfully.

**PJ**

"Take deep slow breaths," Wu intoned. "With each breath you are becoming more and more relaxed."

Cal was lying back on the couch, staring at a blue dot drawn on the psychologist's palm. He was meant to be focussing on the dot and Wu's voice only. But it was funny how he was told to focus on just those two things and all he could think about was how Gillian was pregnant. And the sound of traffic outside. And he could even hear the click of the receptionist's fingernails on her keyboard. That's how quiet it was right now.

"Every sound you hear only relaxes you further," Wu kept talking. It was a steady repetition of relax, take deep breaths, focus on the sound of his voice, ignore the other noises. "I'm going to count backwards from five and when I do your eyes will feel so heavy and relaxed that you will close them."

Cal had never been hypnotised before. He had seen Gillian do it on several occasions. Her technique was similar to Wu's. It would have been interesting to see how he would react to her voice.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One," Wu counted slowly. Cal closed his eyes dutifully, not sure if he was doing it consciously or not. "Continue to take deep slow breaths," Wu's voice carried on in its nice lilting expression, rising and lowering only a few tones at a time. "You are relaxing further and further."

Cal felt the doctor's hand on his wrist. His arm was lifted. "Relax," Wu instructed him. "Your limbs are heavy." The arm was lowered again and Cal almost felt like he was floating for a second, before grounding again against the cushions he was resting on. "Now you remember we were going to work on some of your missing memories."

Cal felt heavy. Really heavy.

"I want you to go back to the first time you and Gillian were pregnant. Where are you?"

"Hospital," Cal responded.

"Tell me what's happening," Wu prompted.

"Gillian's there," Cal responded. "I'm waitin' to go and see her."

"Why is Gillian in the hospital?"

"She's had a miscarriage."


	6. Chapter 6

"A bike."

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

A pause.

"Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"I just mean, _Cal_, who's going to teach him to ride it?"

"He's four; won't he be on trainin' wheels?" Cal turned slightly towards the bed as he undressed. Gillian fixed him with an unimpressed expression from the mattress where she was already propped up with pillows. "How does that warrant the evil eye?" Cal asked incredulously. How did this entire conversation suddenly warrant the _tone_? Could be that it was late and Gillian was incredibly tired.

"And when the baby comes?" She shot back.

"The baby isn't due until _April_. He gets the bike in Decemba. That's four whole months I can spend with him teachin' him how to ride." Cal jumped onto the bed next to her in his underwear.  
>She shot him another glare as she was jostled. "And <em>after<em> the baby comes?"

"We'll work it out."

"It's not that simple. Do you even remember what it was like with Lily, with the two of them?" Gillian shot back. She stared at him where he was still kneeling on the mattress, for a second, waiting for an answer and then it suddenly hit her. She clamped a hand over her mouth in shock. "I'm so sorry," she muttered through her fingers, her eyes wide. "That was so out of line."

Cal took a deep breath, an almost sigh. He hung his head a little, then brought it back up to meet her eye. "It's all right," he started softly. Did it sting? Yes it did. Surprisingly so. He thought they were ok with his lack of memories. Perhaps they weren't. Perhaps there were many factors right now that led to these sniping discussions. "You are actually right, I don't rememba. But I _am_ workin' on it."

Gillian was immediately fluid, shifting to sit up against him, pressing her body against his, folding herself into his lap even though it seemed she was too big to fit. She kissed his cheek, the side of his head; that scar. She held him tightly. "I'm sorry. I don't even know why I said that."

Cal's hand came up to rub her back softly, his fingers warming themselves by her skin through her shirt. "It's all right luv. Slip of the tongue." It was going to happen eventually. That one of them would make a snide comment. The chances of it being Gillian were far higher than Cal. It was only a cruel matter of time. But at least it was over and done with. He could show her he wasn't mad at her. Maybe a little hurt, but not mad. And that was an important difference if they were going to go to sleep that night without her comment hanging over their head. "Hey come on," he pulled her away from him. She avoided his eye. That was definitely not a good sign. "Stop Gillian, all right? You didn't say it to hurt me."

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" He hated how she got insecure when she was pregnant. _That_, he remembered. She got insecure and she got controlling and she worried a whole lot more and she got tired and grumpy. She _was_ aware of it and so mostly she kept it to herself, but every so often those little traits would sneak out. Considering she tried so hard, almost all of the time, the least Cal could do was try and ease the situation just a little bit more. They were a team after all. When she was having a bad day he would have a good one to counter it. When he was feeling overwhelmed with therapy or memories or God only knew what else at this point, Gillian was there, helping him pick up the pieces to get through another day. How many times had she picked up his pieces?

Cal gave her a fierce hug, a kiss, then let her go. She hadn't answered him and to be honest, he didn't want to hear an answer to that question. It was meant to be rhetorical; let her simply think of all the reasons why he wouldn't be mad. Neither of them needed to voice them. Cal didn't remember most of them anyway. Not yet. He observed her for a moment, letting his eyes rake over her figure. It was still warm enough to be wearing close to next to nothing to bed. Well, warm enough for her, with her new built in hot water bottle. "Definitely startin' to show."

"I know," Gillian whined lightly, taking the change in subject and running with it. "Which means I'm going to have to avoid my parents for a while."

"Or you could just tell them," Cal encouraged.

"No," she shook her head. "I don't want to have to deal with their disappointment too." Which meant her mother in particular. Cal wasn't sure he agreed with her theory. He didn't quite have those memories of what it had been like with Lily after all, but he nodded his support all the same. If that was what she wanted, and it didn't harm her, the baby or Lewis, then he would be behind her a hundred percent of the way.

"They might notice," he added tentatively.

"I can hide it."

Like she was hiding it from work with clothes. The bump was still small enough to do that but eventually, everyone was going to know. Either that or Cal was going to explode with the excitement of wanting to tell everyone! Work would be all right with being the last to find out, but her mother? Nope. And there was going to be a whole different kind of fall out once Gillian allowed them to know they were having another baby. But they had already had this argument and it didn't need to be said again. Cal couldn't convince Gillian otherwise and her argument of miscarriage history, Lily's adoption and a few other things that had slipped his mind had been compelling. Mostly he felt he had to take his cue from her. When it all came out, it wouldn't be Cal dealing with her mother's emotional guilt. Well, maybe a little. But it was nothing he couldn't handle. His mother had been a champion at emotional guilt and he had thick skin as a result. Didn't he?

**PJ**

When Gillian woke it was slowly and carefully and blissfully. She'd had a good night's sleep and so far she didn't feel completely rotten this morning. So far. This was the fourth morning in a row she hadn't woken to an alarm and she wondered if she had even set it the night before. She pried open an eye to find Cal watching her. "Stop it," she immediately muttered, closing her eye again. He had been the culprit for the alarm yesterday, waking before her and turning it off so she could get a few extra minutes, and so she didn't wake with a start, her heart pounding.

"You're just so beautiful," he whispered and the next second she felt the soft press of his lips and rough scratch of his beard against her cheek. "Good mornin'."

"Uh huh," she murmured in response.

"I have somethin' for you."

"If it's rude, I'm so not interested."

"Nope, sorry, have to have certain aspects of workin' anatomy for that," Cal told her in no uncertain words that he had not woken up 'happy'. Still. "Have a look."

Gillian pried her eyes open again. Cal gestured to her bedside table. He had cracked the curtains open to let in a little of the early morning greyness. She had to turn over on to her back to see properly. There was a glass with a light brown liquid and a plate of plain Saltines. "You brought me food?"

"Yes," Cal responded enthusiastically. "And gingabeer."

"Gingerbeer?" Gillian interrupted.

"Ginga is fantastic at settlin' a squeamy tummy," Cal told her. "And the cracka's will help line your stomach so you don't feel like you're gonna blow chunks as soon as you get out of bed."

Gillian turned up her nose. The idea of food was completely off putting.

"At least try it," Cal prodded gently. "Trust me. You'll feel betta for gettin' up slowly with somethin' to ground your stomach. I googled it."

"You googled it?" Gillian turned towards him again, suddenly impressed, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly grateful towards this sweet, sweet man of hers. Hers. Her husband.

"I did. Cos I feel badly for you upendin' your stomach every mornin' for a week straight," he leaned in to give her another gentle kiss on the cheek. "Plus this way, you can have a nice leisurely breakfast in bed. I'll take care of Lewis. And you can showa when you're ready and come downstairs ready to go."

Ok she had tears. She did. She was a complete girl. "You're sweet," she told him.

Cal gave a shrug. "Don't cry all right?"

"Can't help it," Gillian responded in a mumble.

Cal kissed her forehead. "I'm gonna have a showa. Send the giblet in when he makes an appearance."

**PJ**

"Tuesday," Gillian responded politely into her phone as she watched her husband head for his office, a hand against his brown, his neck bent to let his face droop. Not a good sign. And no one was chasing after him for an answer so... "Not a problem," Gillian responded absently to the caller. She was only half listening now. She logged into the security feed and brought up Cal's office. He was slumped forward, leaning his elbows on his desk, and cradling his head. Really not a good sign.

Gillian realised the call had ended so she put the receiver back in the cradle and got up. Nausea tickled the back of her throat and she took a steadying breath, nice and slow, before she headed across the hall to Cal's office. She stepped through and he didn't look up so she turned and closed his door quietly. When she approached he deemed to give her a bleary expression. "Hi," she greeted. "You ok?"

"Got a blindin' headache," Cal groaned. He buried his head in his hands again.

"Have you taken something?" Gillian reached his desk.

"Yes," he grouched.

"What?"

"I don't know. What was in the cupboard?"

"Asprin?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"I don't know Gill! A while ago. Ten minutes."

"Ok," she responded simply, ignoring his tone and moving to close the blinds behind him.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Cal muttered from between his fingers. With the room darker he emerged a little, watching her from the comfort of his hands.

"Better?"

"A little."

Gillian approached where he sat and smoothed a hand gently over his scalp. She placed a kiss so softly in his hair and then pulled away again. She went to get an icepack and the bottle of ibuprofen from her purse. "Thank you," Cal called as she headed out of his office again. He winced from raising his voice slightly. His head throbbed like there was too much pressure in his cranium and his brain was pulsing with every heart beat; like his brain might just explode out of his skull. He had been good with the headaches for a long time. Months. But clearly he was not off the hook so easily or indefinitely.

His office door opened again and he lifted his head to tell whoever it was to simply bugger off. But it was Gillian and so he kept his tongue. She had a glass of water and a tray of... stuff... Cal sat back slightly with a sigh, ready to tell her he was not interested in whatever she had but she set it down and he could see a bottle of medication and it turned out he was interested. Very.

"Here," Gillian practically whispered, placing a gel pack on top of his head. It was cold, not freezing, but cool enough. It took a few seconds to soak through his hair but the relief was surprising.

"Tell me those are pain meds?"

"They're pain meds," Gillian responded lightly. "But you have to eat first to get any."

Cal gave a groan. "What are you gonna feed me?"

"Nothing excessive, don't worry," she told him. She set food out, soup and crackers and handed him a spoon.

"Is this your lunch?" Cal asked warily.

"Yes."

"Are you sharin' with me?"

"Yes."

"That's sweet."

Gillian pulled a chair closer. "I figured you wouldn't want much else."

"You'd be right," Cal lifted his spoon. "Thank you," he mumbled to his bowl.

"You're welcome," Gillian replied lightly.


	7. Chapter 7

"You know," Cal trailed his fingers down Gillian's bare arm while looking up at her. "We could start tellin' people now. You're fourteen weeks. That's meant to be safe now isn't it?"

"Hmm," Gillian mused. "I guess."

"If you want. I mean, if you don't wanna that's fine too. People might just simply work it out when your bump starts engulfin' you," he placed a hand between them to where the baby had started to push out.

Gillian gave a slight chuckle and leaned in with the eyeliner. She held his cheek with her left hand and rested her right wrist against the bottom of his eye socket. "Stop blinking," she told him off again.

"I can't help it."

"This was your decision," she pulled back to look at him. It had taken her fifteen minutes to work on his right eye. Now she was painting his left.

"Actually it was Lewis's idea to be a pirate," Cal corrected. "Although why that entails eye line-a I don't know."

"Cos it's sexy," Gillian informed him, leaning in for a kiss. She was sitting in his lap, more like kneeling, as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet. She had started out leaning over him but that killed her back.

"Sexy huh?" Cal murmured against her mouth, pressing his lips against hers for another soft kiss. His arm was already around her back, the other shifted from the slight baby bump to squeeze her ass. Gillian arched into him slightly. Cal felt the pressure of her breasts against his chest. He gave a little moan that made Gillian pull away.

She brought her hand up to his face again, "back to this."

"Back to the convasation."

"We can start telling people," she responded lightly as if it weren't a big deal. "I think Lewis should be first."

"Agreed." A slight pause as Cal concentrated on not blinking. "Should be an interestin' convasation."

"Uh huh."

"We neva really explained about Lily though did we?"

"No," Gillian agreed. "But then. Lily was a strange situation." She leaned back to admire her handy work.

Cal blinked at her rapidly, fluttering his eyelashes. Gillian gave him another kiss. "Very sexy," she told him.

Cal gave her a grin. "Lily was difficult to explain when we didn't know what was goin' on with her ourselves. Not really. She showed up one day and was gone almost as abruptly."

"How do you explain an adoption to a two year old?" Gillian finished his thought. "Little bit more," she leaned in again.

Cal made sure to keep his head still. Gillian's left hand came up to pull his eyelid slightly. "Should probably tell Em next."

"Yeah, then Mom and Dad. Family. Work."

"Yeah work," Cal agreed.

"Hello," came from the doorway. "I. Am. A. Robot." Lewis laughed at himself and crossed their bathroom floor. "What's that stuff on Dad?"

Gillian turned to look at her boy in his silver painted box. "Make-up," she told him. "Wow look at you! Very cool Lewis." She made a 'G' hand shape against her chin and gave it a sharp twist forward.

He grinned up at her. He and Cal had worked on his Halloween costume for the last week. They had found a Lewis sized box and decorated it appropriately with bottle cap buttons and other switches. Then spray painted it silver. They also painted an old pair of Lewis's shoes and another head sized box. A bit of a cliché, but that's how Lewis wanted it to look. Cal was a pirate, based on Johnny Depp's Jack Sparrow, also Lewis's idea. And Gillian was a Go-Go girl from the sixties. That had been Cal's pick.

"Where are your shoes?" Gillian asked the four year old; a question on her face. Shoes was: two fists, the backs of her hands upwards towards the ceiling, banged together along the inside edge. He looked down at his sock clad feet and then pointed at the floor. "Ok, why don't you go and get them? And Dad will be down in a minute for trick-or-treating." She used 'candy' which was twisting the tip of her right index finger against her cheek

Lewis nodded and spun on his toes to head for the door again.

Cal pressed his nose against Gillian's neck. "You so want anotha one."

"Yeah," Gillian agreed. "Screw the trick-or-treating. Let's stay in and make a baby."

Cal pulled back abruptly. "Was that serious?"

Gillian gave him a slight smile and he broke into a grin. He pulled her by the chin gently to kiss her again. Soft, warm kisses. Heavenly. "Are you going to let me finish?"

"Suppose," Cal agreed softly. He let her go and went back to trying not to blink. He watched her as she concentrated, her blue eyes sharp in the artificial light. Things had changed in the last month. He had been seeing Wu twice a week for hypnotherapy and it was working a treat. Which probably meant he _had_ been repressing his memories on some level, though Doctor Rockwell was more inclined to believe Cal was simply re-wiring the neural pathways of his brain to access his history. Cal supposed the neurologist would take that view and the psychologist would take the view of regression and Cal didn't really care so long as his memories were coming back. And they were. Vividly sometimes. Wu had to remind him on several occasions that he was just witnessing something that had already happened; he wasn't going to get hurt. He was just an observer. But still. Being taken back to that attic where he had been tied up for three days made him flinch. Those panic induced seconds when Lewis had almost died, they had Cal's heart on edge while lying on Doctor Wu's couch. Then there was Lily. Her anniversary had arrived what felt like abruptly to Cal, but must have been on Gillian's mind for a while. She knew it was coming. It took Cal a two hour session with Wu to feel like he knew enough about experiencing the incident all over again to be empathetic enough to his wife.

There were also the memories that would have made him blush had he not been under. The first time he had made love to Gillian. Those beautiful nights of their honeymoon. Those first kisses Gillian had told him about, he got to relive them. He got to relive holding his son for the first time. And all those nights he had got up to him. Of telling Gillian the stories about Wu to get her to relax and learn to breastfeed. Watching her learn to be a mother. Watching Lewis learn something; his first steps, his first solid food, his first proper words.

"Ok you're done," Gillian murmured, sitting back from him. Cal's hands were supporting her weight under her butt. He looked up at her, still amazed she was having his baby, still absolutely amazed she was his wife.

"How do I look?"

"Hot," Gillian told him again, pressing another warm, firm kiss to his mouth. "Definitely an early night."

Cal chuckled slightly. "With all that suga? Not likely."

"Plant him in front of the TV then."

"Now that sounded like a proposition," Cal teased.

"It was," Gillian affirmed. She shifted carefully to stretch her legs to the floor, one by one, and stood, pulling her dress down again. It barely covered her thighs. And the bump was noticeable, no matter what she said.

The end of October. Another month had gone by. Another month of trying to find their way back to normal. Cal still had so many appointments and responsibilities he was gone more often than he was around at work; Rockwell, Wu, Kent, Lewis. But he was one month closer to getting his license back. And Rockwell had conceded Cal could stay off the anti-seizure medication so long as he stayed seizure free. Gillian continued with work. She continued to make their business run, to recover from the little dent Roberts had attempted to put in it, to supervise when she had to, or give a psychological opinion when it was needed.

"All right then, betta go find Lewis."

Gillian started putting her make-up back into its piles on the vanity; the stuff she used the most, the least used went back into her drawer. Cal approached behind her, slipping his arms around her waist to rest on the little swell of the baby starting to assert its presence, despite the fact that neither of them could feel the baby moving yet. Gillian placed her hands over her husband's and caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror. He really did look good with eyeliner on. But that wasn't the point. "We need to talk about other things too."

"Oh?" Cal raised an eyebrow.

"You know I have to go for those genetic tests next week."

Cal leaned his head on her shoulder. He gave a little nod. "I'll be there."

"And if there's something..."

"Don't worry about it," Cal told her. He kissed her neck.

"I do worry."

"Not yet," Cal corrected. "Tonight we have some fun with the kid we've got. Then tomorrow we can worry about the kid on the way."

Gillian relaxed again. He was so very good at forcing her to think about things in a different way. Her first reaction was to worry. Cal's first reaction was to put it into perspective. She nodded. "Ok tomorrow."

"Good girl," he kissed her again. "You look fantastic by the way." He gave her a grin and stepped away.

**PJ**

When Lewis wasn't looking, Cal slipped handfuls of his son's candy into the bag he was carrying. There was an incredible unending supply of sugar; it wasn't like the kid was going to miss half of it. And besides the fact that it would take Lewis an absolute age to get through all of it, Cal didn't want him hyped up on sugar until Christmas. Cal walked around the neighbourhood with their four year old while Gillian stayed at home to man the door. Emily showed up with Ajay before they headed off to a Halloween party and Gillian text Cal to let him know his daughter was there.

Cal gave Lewis a nudge. "Emily's at home. Shall we go see her? We can come back out afta." He finger-spelled 'Em' and added 'home', 'go', 'back' and 'after'.

"Oh Emy!" Lewis agreed enthusiastically. "Show her all the candy." He twisted his index finger against his cheek.

"Yeah," Cal agreed, taking his hand to cross the street.

"That didn't take you long," Gillian noted as the boys came through the front door.

"We were right across the street," Cal pointed out, letting Lewis's hand go so the kid could run through the house to see his sister. Cal gave his stash of candy to Gillian. "Hide that."

"Is this half?" She sounded surprised.

"Yeah."

"I don't understand how parents can do it," Gillian almost whined as she peered into the bag. They started heading for the living room themselves. "They have kids too. They know exactly what it's like to hype them up on artificial colours and sweeteners..."

"I think we should tell Em now. While she's here," Cal cut her off. Gillian looked over at him surprised and came to a stop half way down the hall. "She's right here."

"And you're excited?"

Cal nodded enthusiastically, mimicking Lewis.

"How much of this have you had to eat?" Gillian narrowed her eyes at him.

"A little bit," he admitted. "Betta to get it out of my system now right?"

"Sure we can tell Emily about the baby," Gillian answered his earlier question.

Cal gave her a smile. "Cool."

Gillian laughed. "Since when do you say 'cool'?"

"Since Lewis informed me I was cool."

"Kiss ass," Gillian muttered under her breath as she followed her husband through the house.


	8. Chapter 8

Cal suddenly stopped and Gillian bumped in to him a little before realising he was no longer moving. He turned towards her slightly, keeping them out of sight of the doorway. He fingers caught in the elongated sleeve of her bright print dress. "What?" She started, sensing something was suddenly bothering him.

"I want to tell her myself." He looked up to meet her eyes. He looked worried. "Alone."

Gillian watched him for a moment, not sure if she should be offended.

"I just, want to tell her alone."

"Why? Do you think she's not going to take the news well?"

"I just," he hesitated, stopped, looked down at his hand on her elbow. "I don't rememba tellin' her the first time." A pause and then he quickly went on to explain. "We haven't got to that one yet." He blinked, like it had suddenly occurred to him.

If Gillian had felt offended, even in the slightest, she was pretty sure it would have melted away in the shadow of his insecurity. Yep, five minutes without being reminded. She shifted her hands to cover his wrists. "It's ok. If you want to tell her alone that's fine," she reassured him. Always reassuring him. Always propping him up. She didn't like this role reversal. She wanted Cal to look after her. Not that she wouldn't, of course she would, but she didn't want to be looking after him. She wasn't entirely sure she was good at it.

"You don't mind?"

"No. If that's what you need."

"What about what you need?"

"Cal. She's your daughter. Sometimes some things are better coming from you than from you and me."

Cal looked relieved and Gillian wondered where this was coming from. A step mother issue? When had it ever been an issue? And did that mean that for him, at some point during their timeline, it had been? Maybe for Zoe but Cal too?

"I've never," Gillian started.

"No," Cal cut in with a shake of his head. "Not you. Not eva you. It's just me, bein' selfish. I wanna tell her myself, that's all. Without Lewis jumpin around in my face and without her husband there for her to hide behind. You know?"

"Oh," Gillian clicked. "Yeah. Ok." She did get that. Actually, she got it a lot. That feeling of being replaced. Cal had talked to her about it before. About after Lewis had been born. It was important to him, to not abandon the family he already had, not when he felt he maybe didn't entirely do the right thing by the one before and Gillian understood that. It had been too easy for her father to walk away after all. Another thing she had had so much trouble forgiving him for. How could he just leave? Gillian leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her husband's cheek. "Ok you talk to Em, I'll entertain the boys."

"You're good at that," Cal teased quickly.

Gillian gave him a shove and he stumbled back a step laughing. The plastic bag in her hand swung against his leg. "You're so annoying!"

**PJ**

"Why did we have to come out here?"

"Cos," Cal took a seat on the wooden bench. "There are some things I'd like to tell you in private. Fatha to daughta."

Emily took a seat heavily next to him. She gave a sigh. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, course."

"Cos you know, we haven't really checked in in a while."

"Em, things are fine."

She turned her head to look at him. "You sure?"

"Yes. I actually have good news. That's why I wanted to bring you out here."

"Good news?" Emily's eyebrows went up in surprise. "That'd be a nice change."

Cal gave a grin. "Yeah. Actually. It was."

"So?"

"Gill's pregnant," he almost sounded unsure.

Emily blinked at him for a second. "Really?"

"Yeah. She is," he affirmed.

"Wow," was Emily's first response. Then: "Geeze really? Aren't you a bit old to be a father again?"

Cal almost laughed. Almost. But she wasn't exactly voicing anything he hadn't already thought about. "It was quite the surprise."

"I thought Gill couldn't?"

"Yeah you know..." He paused.

"Not that I'm trying to..."

"No," Cal agreed. "It's... I don't really get it."

"You weren't trying?"

"No, course not. You have any idea how old I am!"

Emily gave a slight smile. "Surprise to you too huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "Do you rememba many years ago, afta Gill and I got married, she had a miscarriage?"

"Yes," Emily said firmly. "I do remember that."

"It's like that."

Emily nodded. "Have you told Lewis?"

"Not yet. Tomorrow probably. You're my numba one Em."

Emily gave him another smile, slower this time, with meaning, her eyes took understanding from his. She hooked an arm around is shoulders. "Thanks Dad," she kissed his cheek. "And congratulations by the way."

"Thanks, by the way."

"Lewis will be thrilled."

Cal looked over both of their shoulders towards the house. Lewis was jumping on the couch, practically in Ajay's face but the older man was laughing and clearly egging the boy on.

"Are you?"

Cal looked back to his grown-up daughter. "Yeah?"

"You don't sound sure."

"I mean, bloody hell Em. Afta everythin'?"

She nodded.

"But yeah I am thrilled."

Emily gave him a smile again, squeezed her arm so his head was brought closer to hers and hugged him. "You'll be fine."

"You reckon?"

"You always are Dad."

**PJ**

When Gillian woke, it was before Cal for once and she revelled in the fact that she got to see his face slack and peaceful with sleep while he was unaware. When she checked the time that Saturday she found even she had slept in and she realised all the extra things Cal had taken over took their toll on him and he was sweet for getting up that little bit earlier to make sure she didn't have to run around after Lewis. Not only that, but Lewis had been bouncing off the walls last night on his little sugar over dose and when Gillian had caved and gone to bed, Cal had stayed up, wearing the boy out until he had dropped into unconsciousness on the couch. He carried him up to bed, tucked him in, then slipped into their bed behind his wife. She remembered complaining his feet were cold but that was half hearted and that was about the extent that she had woken.

And now here she was, in the perfect position for a little revenge staring. She wondered how long Lewis would sleep for and hoped it was long enough for her to enjoy some serious snuggle time with her husband. After she used the bathroom that was. She slipped out cautiously, to which he grumbled, threw an arm out to stop her, but missed. Gillian padded around the bed carefully. She closed the door quietly and when she reopened it she was pleased to find Cal in relatively the same position as she had left him, left arm stretched out over her side of the bed. He was just slightly off centre and there was enough space for her to crawl in next to him, on his side of the bed this time.

Cal stirred, mumbled something unintelligible and shifted his hips over, turning towards her, so he could embrace her. Gillian hugged Cal's head against the crook of her shoulder because she had gotten under the covers with a height advantage. "Mornin'," Cal murmured, bringing his arm around her back to hold her.

Gillian kissed the top of his head and slid her leg up over his, high, because their bodies weren't aligned properly. "Morning," she started and abruptly switched to. "Are you hard?" She shifted her thigh to feel better.

"Mm," Cal muttered.

Gillian moved again, sliding down him to reach with her hands. Cal gave a groan and his eyes flickered open to regard her sleepily. "What are you doin'?"

Gillian felt a thrill in her stomach. "You know what this means don't you?"

"I'm baaack," Cal sing-songed sleepily.

"It means," Gillian shifted away from him. "I get to return the favour." She threw the covers over her head and burrowed her way down.

"Gill," Cal protested. "You don't..." He trailed off abruptly. "Ok!" He agreed. He gripped the edge of the bedspread tightly as she teased him. "Oh god," he moaned and a few seconds later he was breathing her name. He focussed on not thrusting his hips; it was better not to test her gag reflex right now, even if the morning sickness was dying down. He broke out in a sweat and focussed on his breathing so he didn't embarrass himself. And then he thought 'fuck it!' She was good. She was so very good. He told her that. He also warned her it was over. He wanted to reach for her but she threw back the covers and flopped herself over his legs instead. They both took a minute to catch their breath.

"You realise we could have had a shag this mornin'," Cal pointed out.

"You realise that's the first time I've been able to do something for _you_," Gillian retorted. She shifted, picking herself up to lie against him. She didn't have to add the 'since'.

"Hm," Cal responded. He kissed the top of her head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She paused. "I'm glad you're back."

He chuckled and turned suddenly so he was leaning over her, pressing kisses to her neck but he was distracted and it didn't take much for Gillian to suspect. She ran her fingers through his hair, reaching his ears and tugging him closer. "What?" She whispered so very softly. He gave her a squeeze and she pressed herself tighter against him, her breasts squashing against his chest so deliciously. "What are you thinking about?"

"You."

"That's a good start," her tone was teasing.

"And."

"Uh oh," Gillian let him pull away slightly, relaxing her grip. "Go on Cal," she spoke again, her tone gentle. "What's on your mind about me?"

"You know I went to see Wu yestaday mornin'."

"Yes."

"He brought up a valid point."

There was a slight pause and then Gillian prompted him, "Which was?"

"You and this baby."

"Uh huh."

Cal decided on amused attentiveness, that's what she was giving him. He shifted to sit up slightly, leaning on his elbow. Gillian looked up at him patiently, her eyes questioning but also waiting. He found her hand and traced over her fingers lightly. "All the baby stuff Gill. I mean, it's been monolithic in our lives; in your life. Afta the adoption and then Lily's death. You got rid of everythin' and you seemed fine. Like you had dealt."

"I had dealt," she cut in.

Cal kept going. "And now you're pregnant again, against all odds, so far out of left field it's ridiculous..."

Another moment of silence.

"Was there a question in there?" She asked gently. Kindly almost. Like she knew this was difficult for him to bring up and discuss. Again.

"I just think we should talk about that," he added reluctantly because it so went against everything he was to actually have a heart to heart chat about feelings and be so blatant about it.

"Therapy has really changed you," Gillian noted amused. She shifted slightly but Cal didn't want her to go too far away. He still wanted to be connected. Not have this conversation across the expanse of their bed.

"In a good way?"

"Yeah in a good way."

"Well that's," Cal started and then he didn't know what that meant. "Does that mean you're applaudin' that I brought this up?"

"Yes I am, "Gillian confirmed. "I'm impressed."

"It's all right that I did?"

"Yes," she gave a slight laugh. "We can talk about anything that you want to," she added. She shifted her hand to smooth across his cheek and jaw. "You have a very valid point about the baby stuff. It's been abused to death in our relationship." She paused. Long enough for Cal to wonder if he should fill the gap. "All I can really say is that, after the adoption, and the fatal mistake of almost ruining it with you then, plus Lily's death... I... took a long hard look at what that kind of yearning did to me and I didn't like it. So I packed it up with all of Lily's things."

"And got rid of it?"

"Yes."

"Just like that?"

"Perhaps not just like that. We talked about it remember?"

Cal paused. "No. Sorry."

"We talked about it," Gillian reiterated. "A bit. And Casey helped and talking to my Mom helped and Lewis helped a lot."

"Hope?" Cal asked tentatively, his neck hurt lying so very still, as she opened up to him some more. Not like a delicate flower but more like: 'here's my big gaping wound, want to see how it healed?'

"Some. Mostly it was looking at him and being grateful for what I had right here in front of me. What we went through with his birth and hearing loss and coming out the other end of it probably far better than I could ever have imagined, to be honest."

"Yes please."

Gillian gave a slight laugh. "Am I not being honest enough?" She teased.

Cal shifted so his head was resting on her shoulder, so his hand was on her belly, the baby beneath his fingers. "So what does that mean now?"

"It means I'm cautiously thrilled to be pregnant again but I'm also very aware of how easily the world can fall out from under my feet. Our feet. Sometimes things aren't meant to be. I'm taking it one day at a time."

Now that sounded familiar too... Cal realised it was part of the twelve step programme... take it one day at a time. That's what they taught. And he suddenly remembered they had had a discussion once about her need to have a baby, or be a mother, as feeling like an addiction she couldn't control.

"I'm really proud of you," Cal blurted.

"Really?" Gillian definitely sounded amused that time.

"Yeah," he smoothed his hand over her belly gently. "You've been through so much and yet here you are, chin up, ready to fight anotha battle." Why he chose those particular words he wasn't sure, but having another baby now meant they were both going to struggle through until they found their feet again.

"Hm well, you do it, so I figure, I better do my bit too."

Cal smiled into the dimness of their bedroom and the brightness of his marriage. "Lovely."

"I think you're lovely," Gillian responded.


	9. Chapter 9

"Lewis come and sit with me and Mum for a second," Cal requested of his son. 'Sit': hooking the extended index and middle finger of his dominant hand over the index and middle finger of his other hand.

"We've got somethin' important to tell you." 'Important': 'F' finger-shapes with the tips of the fingers facing each other at a distance in front of his belly. He moved the fingers up and in a slight arc in front of him to end pressed together in front of his chest. He took a seat on the couch and Lewis pulled himself up to sit in the middle seat, refusing help, while Gillian squeezed herself on to the other end.

"I wasn't bad," Lewis started with a frown. He brought a flat hand against his mouth and brought it down abruptly so the palm was facing the floor.

"No buddy it's not about bein' bad. You've been a good boy. Rememba, we took the plastic sheet of your bed cos you've been a good boy?" Good was similar to 'bad' but without the frown and by ending the sign with the palm facing upwards, resting against the upturned fingers of the non-dominant hand.

Lewis looked up at him and nodded.

"This is somethin' else. Mum is havin' a baby." Cal watched his son's face, while folding one arm over the top of the other and rocking it back and forth, as if he were really holding and rocking a baby. No reaction. "Do you know what that means?"

Lewis shook his head.

"It means that in about six month's time you're gonna have a little brutha." Cal brought his dominant hand in an 'L' shape against his forehead and brought it down on top of his non-dominant 'L' hand in front.

Lewis gave a slight frown.

Tough crowd.

"There's a baby growin' inside Mum's tummy and when it comes out it's gonna be a boy, which means you'll have a brutha to play with. Do you think that might be good?" Cal gave up signing.

Lewis seemed to consider this. Then he nodded slowly. "Where in Mum's tummy?" He turned to her and looked a little suspicious.

"Here," Gillian spoke up. She lifted her shirt to show Lewis the bump that was the baby. Yes it was a boy. Neither of them were overly excited about having a surprise. And it fortuitously made it easier to explain to Lewis exactly what was going on. "See the bump?"

"It's a small baby," Lewis made a 'little' gesture.

"At the moment, but it's going to get bigger," Gillian told him. She held her hand out from her skin to show just how big she was going to get.

"And then it will come out?" Lewis queried.

"Yes," Gillian confirmed.

"How does it get out Mum?"

"That's a good question Mum," Cal jumped in. "How _does_ it get out again?"

Gillian narrowed her eyes at her husband. "When he's ready to come out, when he's finished growing ages from now, he will let me know and then I push him out."

"Oh," Lewis seemed to consider this. "What's his name?" He moved his 'H' hands to tap the edge of the index finger of his right hand against the top edge of his index finger of his left hand.

"I don't know," Gillian told him gently. "Your Dad and I haven't picked out a name yet. What do you think we should call him?" She pointed at him with a questioning expression.

"Uhm," Lewis thought for a second. "Quieton."

"Don't you think that might be a bit confusin'?" Cal asked him, shifting to sit on the coffee table seeing as Lewis was now kneeling on his cushion facing his mother. "We won't know which Quinton. Could be your friend. Could be the baby," Cal signed 'friend' and 'baby' before gesturing to Gillian's still exposed stomach. Her belly button was starting to push out.

"Hm," Lewis considered this. "We could call it Batman."

Cal cracked up laughing and Gillian chuckled, and Lewis, aware he had clearly done something amusing, looked pleased with himself. Cal reached out to pull Lewis into his arms for a hug. "That's a great idea for a name Lewis," he kissed the top of his head. "But we can think of heaps of different names before the baby's born. You can do that to help us can't you?"

Lewis nodded.

"And you can be a big boy and help Mum with otha things too can't you? Like gettin' ready for day care in the mornin' by yourself. Gettin' dressed? And brushin' your teeth?"

Lewis nodded again.

"That would be very helpful," Gillian reiterated. "Because I get tired growing a baby inside me."

"It has to get verr big," Lewis agreed. "So have to eat lots of vegebles."

"Yep," Cal agreed. "Lots of vegetables. To make the baby big and strong."

Lewis nodded.

"You and me," Cal added. "We have to help Mum out." With Lewis in front of him he cupped his right fist into the palm of his left and gestured towards Gillian. "Set the table, and do the dishes, and go to bed when it's bed time so Mum can go to bed too."

"And teeth," Lewis added. "And toilet." He made a 'T' hand shape and gave it a little shake back and forth.

"Yep and what else?"

"Pyjamas," Lewis guessed. He used 'dress' and 'night'.

"Yes, good man," Cal enthused. "What about toys?"

"Oh put them away!"

"Thank you Lewis. That would be very helpful," Gillian told him. She brought her right hand from her mouth out towards her son and finger-spelled the short version of his name.

"And when the baby is born, we have to be nice and quiet so the baby can sleep and so Mum can sleep. Do you think you can help me with that?"

Lewis nodded. Cal kissed his cheek. "Good man. Such a big boy." He turned Lewis slightly. "I'm very proud of you," he said and signed. The whole talking and signing at the same time was tricky. But with Kent's relentless patience Cal was getting better at it. He put his arms around Lewis in an embrace and felt the four year old returning the gesture. Lewis turned his head to kiss Cal's cheek.

"Kisses for Mum!" He announced and squirmed his way out of his father's embrace for his mothers. He gave Gillian a kiss and a hug too and she told him she loved him. "Luff you too Mum," Lewis echoed. "I go play trains?" He asked when he pulled away again.

"Yes you can go play before bedtime," Gillian told him. Lewis slid down to the floor and wandered off upstairs.

Cal launched himself from his seat to smother his wife in kisses too, careful to keep the bulk of his weight off her. "Kisses for Mum," Cal told her, planting his open mouth against her neck and ear.

Gillian wriggled beneath him. She freed her hands and smoothed her fingers through his hair. He had just had it cut and it was short in the back again and so soft. "Cal."

"Mmm," Cal murmured.

Gillian gently redirected the direction of his head so she could see his face. "He didn't ask how babies were made."

"No. But you wait. It will filta through his mind and he'll ask."

"I haven't had to have had that conversation before."

They hadn't explained about Lily at the time because Lewis had not been around her much while she was pregnant. And they had felt he was too young to really understand. But now, he was four. Cal gave a slight upturn of his lip. "Oh it's so much fun. Trust me. I vote for visual aids."

Gillian gave him a slight frown.

"Books," Cal clarified. "Resource books. With pictures."

"Ah," Gillian agreed.

"Dirty mind you," Cal leaned forward to give her a kiss on the mouth this time.

**PJ**

Cal was aware of the voice in the room and that it was day but behind his eyelids was pitch black. He felt like he was in two places at once as Wu guided him to a specific location, a certain point in the time line of his life. It was like being aware but asleep at the same time. His brain was free but his body was grounded firmly against the couch. They had pre-discussed this meeting. The first hypnotherapy session had been more about whether it would even work. And when it had, and so well, which had thrilled them both, the other visits Cal made to Doctor Wu's office became planned out. There were certain events Cal wanted to cover first. The first pregnancy, Lily, Mitchell; the things that were relevant to his life right now and the things Gillian had brought up that he was curious about. From there, they had moved on to other times, or things Wu noted down of interest, filling in the gaps, almost reverse chronological but really, they were just following wherever Cal's mind took them.

"You remember last time we met we talked about your wedding to Gillian?"

Cal remained still.

"You can indicate that you do remember."

"Yes," Cal spoke up.

"So today we're going to go back to your honeymoon."

"Yes," Cal agreed and the images started to unfold in front of his eyes. It was like walking through a dream, but a dream he would remember clearly when he woke up from it. Cal could see their hotel room, the bed with its messed up white sheets, the beautiful dark wooden furniture, the letter.

"Tell me where you are right now."

"The hotel room," Cal mumbled.

"When?"

"The last day. We are flying home tomorrow."

"Ok. Is Gillian there?"

"No." Cal looked around. He went to the letter.

"Go to where Gillian is," Wu instructed.

Cal headed for the door and then the images around him just seemed to shift a little and it was like he was up in a tree and looking down on them. They were sitting in the white sand. The ocean was cerulean blue and stretched out for miles upon miles. Cal could see himself and yet through his memory-self's eyes at the same time. Gillian was sun kissed and beautiful. Her hair was short, her freckles blended in to her tan. God she was so amazingly beautiful. He felt his heart lurch for her, even now, lying on the couch in a Maryland psychologist's office while it rained outside.

"Where are you now?"

"On the beach. Sitting in the sand."

"What's significant about this memory to you?"

Behind his eyes it was like the scene paused slightly for him to talk to the doctor. Or time there slowed down for him to catch up. The letter. It was there in his hand. He was talking to Gillian about it, thanking her for it. She gave him such a slow smile his stomach lurched for her too. Cal felt his hand twitch on the couch as he drifted from there to here and back again.

"Tell me what's important about this scene to you Cal," Wu instructed a little more firmly.

"Gillian wrote me a letta," Cal told him about it, what it said, how touched he was. "I started to realise how much in love with her I really was."

Gillian was turning towards him now, sitting up on her knees and wiggling her way forward to wrap her arms around his neck. Cal realised he was bare-chested and her skin was cool in its initial contact, then warm and comforting. But he couldn't feel it. He simply remembered that that was how it should feel. She pressed a kiss against his lips.

"How much she loved me," Cal added. His arms twitched again as his dream-self put them around her in response to her embrace. It was like watching her from just slightly outside of himself now. Like there was a two centimetre distance between the connection of his past and present. He leaned back against the sand but he couldn't feel it beneath him. Just the weight of knowing he was lying on the ground now and Gillian was laughing against his chest. Their legs tangled along the length of each other's and he could feel her bare skin, cool and then warm.

"I rememba at the time, thinkin' that this was surreal," Cal noted.

"Surreal how?" Wu prompted gently.

"Surreal because... I neva thought that I could find love like this. And I keep lookin' for ways to confirm that it's real."

"Were you still unsure then?"

"A part of me was," Cal admitted. He wondered when that had stopped. When had he stopped doubting their love? When had he stopped doubting himself?

"It's nearly time," Wu noted.

"No wait," Cal said quickly. "There's somethin' else."

"What is there?"

Cal waited. Gillian kissed him, her arms resting on his chest. When she pulled away he looked up at her and she gave him another smile. Her eyes were the same colour as the ocean, and rich, sparkling. Cal wanted her closer, so close that he could... he wanted them together. Forever.

"This is the first time I wanted her to have my baby."


	10. Chapter 10

_AN: Sash, they broke up before they were married because Cal didn't want kids. Two months after they were married he went to Africa. This was more of an internal acknowledgement of when he had changed his mind. But he never told Gillian. I hope that clears it up for you. And by the way, thank you for reviewing. I really appreciate it._

**PJ**

Gillian fidgeted. Cal sat next to her in the waiting room picking a thread on the button of his shirt. He tugged it, let it go, tugged it again; he was fidgeting as well. If he tugged too hard the cotton would snap off and he would lose the button. Gillian reached over and took his hand, threading their fingers together. She had had a blood test a few days ago to screen for neural-tube defects like spina bifida, and genetic conditions like Down Syndrome. They were at the doctor's for the results. And Gillian was nervous as hell. She was in her late forties now. The chances of even getting pregnant were like less than... zero point zero, zero ten, or something like that. She had looked it up, curious, and then when she had read the information: a little appalled at how small the chances had really been, what with her fertility issues on top of that.

The chances of a miscarriage were even scarier. For women over forty-eight, the risk of miscarriage was eighty-four percent. And with her history, Gillian expected to miscarry. She really did. That was why she had been so reluctant to tell anyone. That was why she was reluctant every time she was pregnant. So far they only lasted with Cal. She hoped this one would last too. She hoped that every time. But at sixteen weeks now, she was actually starting to feel slightly optimistic. Cal didn't say things to her like 'it will be all right' or 'you're worryin' for nothin' because he knew the statistics too. He had read up about the genetic tests Gillian was in the process of having. The risk for any chromosomal abnormality in a woman Gillian's age was one chance in eight.

Zero point zero, zero ten. Eighty-four percent. One in eight.

What they did was try to enjoy the moments of pure joy they had; time together, time with Lewis and cut in between those they had some serious conversations; about the baby, what they would do if there was something wrong, about Cal's continued relationship with his two doctors. Life was getting complicated again.

Gillian was surprised to find Cal's hand as clammy as hers, the only sign he gave that he was nervous. And maybe that he was a little slow with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. They were in agreement. If there was something wrong with the baby they would terminate the pregnancy. With their ages and Lewis's demands already on their minds, another baby with its own set of challenges would be too much. It had been a terribly difficult decision to make, but now that it was done it was a relief. And they hadn't even got the test results back yet.

Cal leaned over to say something just as the nurse called for Gillian and he settled for a kiss on the cheek instead. He kept hold of her hand as they headed down the corridor to Johansson's office and only let it go to shake the doctor's hand. They took seats. Cal tried to read something in the other man's face. A glimmer of sadness? A smile? That looked like a smile. Cal relaxed a little but remained cautious. A blow could come from anywhere. Look at Mitchell. Look at Lewis.

"Great news," Johansson started as soon as he had taken his seat. "The tests came back negative."

"Thank god," Cal immediately blurted.

Beside him Gillian breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Really?" She asked a slight desperate edge to her voice. "Everything's fine?"

"Everything is fine," Johansson affirmed with a broad smile. "Really, all the tests were negative for genetic or neural-tube conditions. You've got a healthy baby boy on the way."

"Oh god," Gillian breathed. She turned to look at Cal. "That's just so..."

"Fantastic," Cal enthused with a grin. She nodded, turned back to the doctor, asked more questions. Did that mean she was in the clear now? Were there any other conditions she should be aware of? And Cal thought: could they just focus on Thanksgiving and Lewis asking his 'how did the baby get in there?' questions and being happy? Happy about baby number two?

Johansson was saying they would certainly be keeping a close eye on Gillian and the baby, more and more as the pregnancy progressed but for now, they could both relax a little. They had just crossed a little hurdle with flying colours.

**PJ**

Cal pressed a kiss against Gillian's stomach. The baby bump was more pronounced now at sixteen weeks. Especially when she was wearing next to nothing in bed. "I'm glad you're all right in there little man," he spoke softly. He brushed his fingers over his wife's skin. Goosebumps sprang up under his touch. "You've given me somethin' to be thankful for at Thanksgivin'."

"Hey," Gillian protested.

Cal looked up. Her breasts were massive from this angle. He crawled himself up her body slowly. She brought her hands up to hold his face. She caressed his ears. Cal was careful to keep his weight off her body; he simply let the warmth of her skin soak into his. He lowered his mouth carefully to hers, a warm press of lips together. Gillian gave a pleased hum. Cal pulled away to see her. "I'm always grateful for you."

She gave him a slow smile. "Kiss ass."

He grinned. "Was hopin' you might let me make love to you this mornin'."

"Mm, sounds tempting."

"But?" Cal prompted.

"No, no buts."

"Hm?" Cal asked her, his voice rising in hope and interest. He lowered himself for another kiss. Gillian wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her mouth slightly, encouraging. Cal gave a little groan when she lifted her hips from the bed to press against his. Cal kissed her with a little more fervour and she responded. And then there was a knock at their bedroom door. "Hang on a sec," Cal pulled away.

"Did Lewis just knock?" Gillian asked surprised but Cal was already climbing off the bed. He opened the door and spoke quietly, gesturing to the floor, for a moment before closing it again. Gillian, propped up on her elbows, watched him cross the room again to the bed. "What was that?"

Cal climbed over her gently. "Where were we?" He leaned in for a kiss.

Gillian turned her head. "Was that Lewis?"

"Yeah," Cal confirmed. He pressed his lips against her neck.

"Explain," Gillian pushed him back, upsetting her own balance and retreating back to the pillows.

"Lewis and I have been workin' on a few things."

"Like knocking?"

"Yes. He has to knock. And if you're asleep I'll come out and tell him to go downstairs. If someone calls out he can come in. If no one answa's, he should go downstairs."

"And he understood all that?"

"Give him some credit. He's nearly four and a half. He's a big boy now."

"I know that," Gillian told him indignantly. "I just mean. Can he hear you yell at him through the door?"

"Yeah, we practised."

"You practised?" Gillian repeated, amused.

Cal nodded seriously. "And once we masta the door knockin' thing, we're gonna move on to him gettin' his own breakfast."

"Really?" Gillian was more amused.

"Yep. I'm thinkin' pre-portioned cereal and milk. He can pour a small amount of milk without completely makin' an abomination out of it."

Gillian gave him a smile. "And this is for?"

"So we can sleep in," Cal whined. He shifted over completely so he was lying on his back next to her. "When the baby comes."

"There's plenty of time," Gillian pointed out.

Cal turned his head towards her. "Exactly. Plenty of time to get him all trained up."

Gillian gave him a slight smile. "So Lewis is downstairs and we're up here."

Cal nodded.

"And he's under instruction to leave us alone for a while."

Cal nodded again, his blue eyes very serious on hers.

"So what are you doing over there?"

**PJ**

"Would you relax?" Cal requested, rubbing is hands into Gillian's shoulders.

"She's going to kill me."

"Why? Cos you waited until everythin' was all right before tellin' her you're pregnant? That's allowed. They're _our_ rules, not hers."

"Yeah but she would want to know straight away."

"Relax," Cal told her again gently, making his fingers firmer against her flesh. She was all hunched up. He kissed her temple, where he could reach while standing behind her. "If she gives you too much shit, just lay on the warta works and run from the room. Works with me every time."

Gillian pushed her elbow into his ribs half heartedly. Cal shifted out of her way, then back immediately to continue working at the tension in her muscles. Gillian was chopping fresh herbs at the kitchen bench. Lewis was watching TV. Cal was attempting to make his wife relax. So what if she was noticeably pregnant and had told just about everyone else but her parents about the baby? So what if she didn't want people to know about the pregnancy until she was sure she wasn't going to spontaneously lose the baby, or that there was something wrong with it?

"Shut up," she told him softly.

Cal kissed the back of her unencumbered neck. She had cut her hair. When she had been sick she had cut it, tired of it getting in the way and now she felt like she had a new lease on life with it off her neck. Cal liked it shorter, he had made that clear months ago. And of course there was the added bonus that her neck was completely exposed to kissing. Gillian sighed a little and stopped moving. Cal smoothed his thumbs down her spine to the small of her back and pressed firmly.

"Oh!" Gillian whispered.

"Too much?" Cal queried lightly.

"Perfect," Gillian gulped at the ripples of relief washing through her.

"You need to relax," Cal told her gently, ghosting his lips over her throat. "And I will run intaference. I'm not scared of your mutha. I'll give her marchin' ordas if I have to you. I got your back."

"Mm literally," Gillian let rip a small moan.

"Yeah," Cal agreed. "So it'll be fine all right?"

"Ok," Gillian agreed. "Promise?"

"Promise," Cal reiterated.

The door bell rang. Gillian's shoulders hunched immediately, undoing Cal's work. '_Muthas and their daughtas,_' he thought with slight amusement. Cal kissed her again before stepping away to get the door. As soon as they took one look at her they were going to know she was expecting a baby. It was obvious now. She was in maternity wear. Everyone at work knew. Emily knew. Lewis knew. Wu knew. Hell, even Kent knew at this point. Her parents were the last to know. They wouldn't be happy about it but they were also the most likely to put pressure on the pregnancy. Dana would want to know exactly what was going on, how Gillian had got pregnant and when. When she was due. And in light of Lily, there was that unspoken 'what if something goes wrong' that neither Cal nor Gillian wanted to face. If they let themselves get sucked down into that vortex there was no telling how they would get out again. It was better to tell Gillian's parents now, when they could sit there and calmly answer questions; yes Gillian was fine, yes the baby was fine. She was due in April. It was a boy.

"Good evenin'," Cal pulled open the door.

"Cal. Hi, how are you?"

That weariness because Cal had a brain injury and his memories had been a little funky for a while, and no, he had no recollection of her parents until Wu had worked his magic and woken Cal's mind up again. But that was kind of hard for other people to deal with, even if it had become a comfortable normal for the Lightman's.

"Fine thanks," he dutifully gave his mother-in-law a quick hug, shook his father-in-law's hand, ushered them inside, suggested they head down to the kitchen where the other two were waiting. He traipsed in after them, in time for the: "Oh my god Gillian you're pregnant?" And quickly crossed to his wife's side, slipping his arm around her waist.

"Yes," Gillian confirmed warily.

And then the barrage of questions began.


	11. Chapter 11

_AN: M chapter._

**PJ**

Cal pulled open the front door. "Happy thanksgivin'!"

"Happy thanksgiving Dad," Emily returned with a smile. She stepped forward into Cal's embrace.

Cal shook Ajay's hand behind her back. He ushered them inside hurriedly. "It's cold out there."

"They reckon we'll get snow before Christmas," Ajay noted as they removed their coats and Cal hung them in the hall closet.

"Oh Lewis will love that," Cal responded. "Go through," he gestured once they were finished.

Cal's phone started ringing and he reached into his pocket for it absently as Emily informed him her Mom might call to wish him a happy thanksgiving. "Nice," Cal held up his phone to show it was Zoe's number flashing on the screen. Emily gave him a cheeky smile and walked off.  
>"Happy thanksgivin'," Cal answered.<p>

"Happy thanksgiving," Zoe repeated the greeting. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Cal responded pleasantly, leaning against the wall in the hallway. "How are you?"

"Good," she responded.

"Celebratin' in New York?"

"Yeah I'm at my sister's and Mom's here."

"Nice," Cal responded.

"You've got your brood with you?"

"Yeah and a few strays I think."

"I heard Gillian's pregnant. Congratulations." She said it sounding only slightly weird.

"Thanks," Cal responded warmly and it struck him that he had never become the family man for Zoe that he had for Gillian. That was something to be a little ashamed of.

"And Em told me you're doing much better now... after the accident."

"Yeah a lot betta," Cal agreed. "In the process of ditchin' the docta's visits. Should be able to cut them down to once a month from now on."

"Well that's great!"

"It is," he agreed. "Business is good?"

"Really good."

"Good."

"So I should go," Zoe smoothly continued. "I'm on potato duty."

Cal laughed at the image of her at the sink, sleeves rolled up. Zoe didn't tend towards the domestic. "You have a good one Zo. It was nice to hear from you. It's been too long."

"It has. But I wasn't sure... With the accident..."

"Yeah that's a tough one," Cal agreed and figured she knew about his memory issues. Zoe wasn't the only one to find it completely awkward. "But you know, keep in touch."

"I will," she promised and the call disconnected.

Cal looked up to find Gillian standing just out of his peripheral vision. She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Just talkin' to my ex-wife," Cal explained.

"Uh huh," she nodded. "I was just getting the linens for the table."

"Oh yeah?" Cal approached her. He slipped his arms around her waist to hug her. The baby pressed into him so he kept it light. "Funny I thought they were in the otha room, not in the hallway."

"How is Zoe?" She said it only slightly warily.

"She says congrats on the baby, happy thanksgivin' and I'm glad you got your memories back." Cal pressed a kiss to his wife's lips. "That last one was for me."

"I figured," Gillian replied dryly. She brought her hands to Cal's shoulders as he lowered his head further to kiss her neck. She pried him away gently. "We have guests," she admonished.

"Yeah yeah," Cal whispered. He kissed her again, deeply, but briefly and when he pulled away Gillian's eyes were glittering. Too easy. "Go get your table cloth." He stepped around her, letting his hand trail along her arm for as long as possible.

Emily and Ajay were sitting on the two-seater couch while Lewis told them about Halloween. Considering it was a month ago it was impressive, oh no wait, he had been playing with his costume since that night so, nope, it would still easily be on his mind. Cal took a seat on the other couch and Lewis immediately attempted to climb into his lap, like a moth to a flame. Cal fended him off, telling him to sit in his own seat, but tucked him under his arm for a cuddle anyway. Then he turned his attention to his daughter. "So what is new with you two?"

Emily gave a shrug. "You know, school and working."

"How's school?"

"Good. Glad to have a few extra days off this week."

"Yeah," Cal agreed. "Ajay? How's work?"

"Yeah, good, busy."

"Your Mum says hello," Cal informed his daughter.

"I spoke to her before we came over."

Cal felt a presence at his back and turned his head. "Can I help Gill?"

"I got it," she responded lightly. "Have you told Emily your good news?"

"I was about to." He bit back any other snide retorts. She had turned into a pregnant controlling nag. He was fighting to get his independence back and she had resorted to undermining it. She had done that when she was pregnant with Lewis too. And it would pass. He just had to be patient. And it wasn't like she did it on purpose. Although that didn't make it any less annoying though! "I got my driva's license back."

"Wow!" Emily enthused. "That's great Dad. Now you're a big boy like the rest of us."

Cal smirked at her.

"I'm a big boy now," Lewis perked up again.

"Did you tell Emily about gettin' your own breakfast?" Cal asked Lewis. The doorbell rang again. "You tell Em all about it and I'll get the door." He got up. He was on hosting duties while Gillian finished cooking. Her choice. Later he and Lewis were on setting the table duties. The table cloth Gillian had retrieved just before was waiting for him on the breakfast bar. Cal wiggled his eyebrows at his wife as he passed her. She gave him a slight smile. Controlling nag, yes, at times, but mostly, she was serene these days; pregnant and happy. And it made Cal feel warm inside to see. He only wanted her to be happy.

"Happy thanksgivin'," Cal answered the door for the second time.

Kiera gave him a smile. "Happy thanksgiving," she responded warmly. Cal ushered her in, took her coat, asked how she was. "I'm good," she answered. "You?"

"Yeah not bad," Cal hung her coat up with the others. "Gillian's pregnant."

"Oh wow!" Kiera's face morphed into pleased surprise. "She didn't mention that in her last email."

"It was still kind of new back then and she wasn't sure how you'd take it. What with Lily," Cal clarified.

Kiera shook her head, the smile still in her eyes and behind it, a little tinge of what Cal would call sadness, but of which he couldn't be sure. "Of course not. That's great news for you guys."

"That's what I said." They started to walk. "Emily and Ajay are here," Cal warned her. "And Lewis has already had suga so he's bouncin' between high as a kite and completely bugga-ed."

Kiera laughed. They swung through the doorway to the kitchen. "Gillian! Congratulations."

Gillian looked a little embarrassed but she embraced Kiera warmly and Cal left them to catch up.

**PJ**

Dinner was laid out on the table. Glasses were filled for toasts. Cal was at the head of the table, Gillian at the other end. He had resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't play footsie with her under the table. He'd have to settle for dirty looks. Much harder to perpetrate with a whole bunch of people in the house, but still, he was definitely going for it every opportunity he got.

Before they started they were going to go around the table to say what they were thankful for. It was tradition after all. "Lewis seein' as you're bouncin' around you can go first."

Lewis looked at his father, paying attention.

"You say one thing you're thankful for," Cal instructed him gently. 'Thankful' was 'thank' (the dominant hand by the chin moving outwards) and the non-dominant hand parallel to the dominant, moving in the same direction, slightly upwards and out.

Lewis thought for a moment. "I like food." He made the sign for 'eat', bringing his closed fingers to his mouth but repeated the movement to indicate he meant 'food' in particular.

"Very good," Cal responded.

"And robots," Lewis added, looking pleased with himself. 'Robot' was moving stiff arms by his side in the very obvious movement of a robot.

Cal laughed, the table chuckled. "Fantastic." He held up his hand for Lewis to 'high five'. The boy slapped his hand eagerly. "I'll go next," Gillian spoke up. "I'm thankful for our family." She looked at Cal when she said this and he knew what she meant; that he was all right now, that the baby was healthy, that they were even having another baby. "And extended family," she added, meaning Kiera, Emily and Ajay.

"I'm thankful that everyone is here today," Emily spoke up.

"I'm thankful I don't have to have thanksgiving with my parents this year," Ajay went next.

"Oh come on it wasn't that bad," Emily turned to him while Cal chuckled.

Ajay fixed her with an unimpressed expression. "Yes it was. Which dinner were you at?"

"Kiera?" Cal prompted gently.

"I'm thankful to be included. As an orphan, it really means a lot that you've let me be here."

"It's tradition," Cal cut in. Because she had had thanksgiving with them last year too, right after the first anniversary of Lily's death. It had set a tone. She was in their orbit now and there she would stay, for as long as she wanted to. Kiera gave him a smile and Gillian reached over to squeeze the younger woman's hand.

"Dad can we eat now?" Lewis cut in.

"But it's my turn," Cal told him.

"Hurry up." Lewis used his index and middle finger to point rapidly at Cal in a double movement. His fingers started upright, towards the ceiling and then moved down in a short arc at the wrist to end up towards his father.

Cal laughed again and Lewis looked pleased but also a little unsure, as if he had no idea why what he had just said was hilarious to all the adults. "I'm thankful to have survived this year relatively unscathed. And for anotha baby. And for the family and friends here today, and those that aren't." Gillian gave him a pleased proud kind of smile from her end of the table. "And robots," Cal added seriously. He raised his hand to Lewis who 'high-fived' him eagerly. "Now we can eat," Cal told his son.

"Yay!" Lewis enthused.

Cal's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

"Oi!" Gillian reprimanded from the other end of the table and Cal knew if they had been sitting within reach he would have gotten a kick too.

"It's Kent," Cal told her reading the message. "He says 'happy thanksgivin'."

**PJ**

"Come here," Gillian requested in the dimness.

Cal turned over towards her, leaning on his elbow to hover over her face. Gillian pulled him down gently to kiss him, slipping her tongue past his lips. Cal's hand found her arm, held on tightly. This was a kiss with meaning. "I'm horny," Gillian whispered against Cal's lips.

"Oh," he breathed. "Don't have to tell me twice." He shifted his hips closer, to find her beneath the covers. Gillian turned slightly to her side, to press hers against him while they kissed again. She raked her fingernails down his chest and had him flinching into her. Cal broke off the kiss to tease her neck with his teeth. She gave a moan to the ceiling, her hands gripping him tightly as the pleasure washed over her. When she regained her senses she went back to teasing his chest, rubbing his ear, driving him wild.

"Gillian," Cal murmured. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Mm," Gillian groaned as he grazed his teeth over her collarbone. She threaded fingers through his hair, the other pressed over the tight muscles of his back.

"I love you," he whispered as he trailed his way down her chest. When he reached her navel he sat back, took her hands and gently pulled her upright so he could remove her shirt. He kissed her deeply, an arm around her shoulders to hold her. His other hand slipped around her waist, caressing her skin. She shivered against him. Cal lowered her to the bed again, covering her body with his. He tugged his own shirt off so they were skin to skin, but he was careful not to press his weight against the baby. He pulled the blankets up over them instead, pushing her on to her right side gently and settling behind her.

"This ok?" He asked softly, pressing tight against her.

"Yes," Gillian breathed. Her hand forced its way between them, stroking hard through his underwear. Cal gave an appreciative groan and went back to massaging her breasts, making sure at least the sheet was over her skin so she didn't get cold. Then he trailed his hand lower and she pushed her hips back against him roughly. "Oh!" She exclaimed softly as he stroked her gently.

Cal kissed the back of her neck, murmured nothing but knowing she liked the feel of his voice against her skin. He bit her lightly as she dared to go beneath his underwear, using a fingernail to pinpoint pressure. So he reciprocated and she cried out his name. Cal recognised that desperate edge, the quiver of her body. He pushed her a little further until she tipped over. Her hand shifted to grip his thigh tightly. Cal went back to worshipping her neck, his fingers not letting up, but lessening their tempo as she came down again.

"I want you," she demanded in the darkness. Her hand came to life again, pushing at his underwear the best she could from the awkward angle.

"I want _you_," Cal growled, causing Gillian to squirm. She shifted her leg, pulling Cal's hips towards her. "Tell me how much," Cal warned as he aligned himself and pushed gently.

The feel of him was ecstasy and for a second Gillian was dancing on the wings of doves. "There," she breathed, shocked back into reality, but Cal had already eased off, reading the reaction of her body.

"Ok?" He whispered.

Gillian nodded. "Uh huh. Go," she urged him to move, drawing her hips away from him and shifting back to meet his tentative strokes. His fingers stayed firmly where they were and Gillian found herself only able to hold on. He had always been so good at making love to her so perfectly she almost didn't have to do anything, even if she could right now. As the weeks went by she was getting less mobile.

Cal groaned into her neck, sending the vibrations along her shoulders to her fingertips and it made her whimper involuntarily. She gripped his thigh tighter. She asked for it a little harder and he knew exactly how much without causing her discomfort. He started murmuring her name. Gillian started squirming, reaching the point of desperation again. Cal's tone rose as his excitement did, as he fought to hold off, to bring her to climax first. Not that that was very difficult. Extra blood flow meant all kinds of heightened pleasure for Gillian at the moment and she knew Cal found that quite interesting; he didn't slack off in the slightest. She grinned into her pillow as she caught her breath, as the felt Cal's hands caress her skin gently.

He planted a kiss on her bare shoulder, grazing his lips over her damp skin, trailing up to her ear. "Ok?" He whispered very, very softly.

"Yes," Gillian whispered back. "You?"

"I'm very ok," Cal responded innocently.

"Perfect thanksgiving," Gillian murmured with a smile, grabbing an armful of her pillow to hug as she went to sleep.

Cal chuckled and kissed just behind her ear. He wrapped an arm around her carefully, avoiding the bump so he could hold her tightly. "Can't wait to see what you get me for Christmas."


	12. Chapter 12

Cal sat quiet and still in the courtroom, in one of his nicest suits, Gillian on his left side; Lewis was at day care. He watched the man who had literally turned his life upside down for four months. Well, if he was honest, it was _still_ slightly topsy-turvy even six months down the line. He was still re-learning to sign. He still had trouble with faces he didn't see on a regular basis. Sometimes names would simply allude him. He had to set reminders in his phone for even the basics. But hypnotherapy had opened the flood gates on his memories and Gillian was pregnant, and in that way, this man would not hold Cal down. Life went on. Cal would always fight. That was what made him him.

Malrose sat quite still. Almost like he was in shock. Or like he was trying not to draw unwanted attention to himself; like Lewis who had just been busted doing something he shouldn't have. Cal didn't know whether he should feel anger or pity for the man. At the moment he was neutral. He still didn't remember the accident, not even when Wu tempted to sway him towards it. It was like it had never happened; except he had the dirty great scar to prove it. He didn't remember talking to Malrose. He didn't remember falling. He was well aware of the circumstances of sabotage and the complete innocence of walking into that situation. And for that he _was_ incredibly angry. Especially when he thought about what it could have done to Gillian, to Lewis. He could have died; she could have been widowed, and Lewis without a father and friend. If Cal had died, not only would it destroy his family, but Gillian would never have gotten pregnant. There would be no new baby Lightman. It could have all changed in the instant that man had made a choice. Small as it was, the ripples would have been huge. Tsunamic. Traumatic.

Gillian squeezed Cal's hand and brought his attention back to the room. She did it, Cal noticed, whenever he got too lost in his thoughts. How did she know? He had read a victim impact statement earlier in the trial, which he had prepared himself. Considering he didn't remember the accident he couldn't very well be a witness. Loker presented the video evidence though and Cal watched it for the first time with interest. A part of him was looking for something Loker had missed. He probably wouldn't be able to see anything new anyway. His mind wasn't as sharp as it used to be. Should he find it interesting that that didn't completely depress him?

Cal squeezed back, looked at her and gave a smile. She was staring at him, that small expression of wonderment. He leaned down to give her a quick kiss. On his other side, Loker glanced over at them. The judge was summarising what the jury had heard that day but soon he was banging his gavel and leaving; the jury filed out, the rest of the courtroom was free to talk again. The three of them got up and headed outside to Cal's car. Gillian sat in the front with him, adjusting the seatbelt around her belly. Loker sat behind her. They headed back to the Lightman Group without talking. Cal focused on driving, and what he had seen that day. Gillian watched him; he could feel her eyes.

When they pulled up at the office building Loker headed inside while Cal lingered and Gillian, sensing he wanted to talk, stayed. Cal asked her if she was all right.  
>"Sure. You?"<p>

"Dunno."

Gillian observed him for a minute. She leaned against the hood of his car and reached for him, encouraging him to step closer. She grabbed a fistful of his suit jacket and pulled him against her side. "Want to talk about it?"

"I'm not really sure what to say," Cal admitted. "It's all very surreal. I have zero memories of that day."

Gillian nodded. She looked over at their building. Then back to him. "You could talk to Wu about it."

"He'll say somethin' like 'it's common to block out moments of trauma' or 'you just feel unsettled because you have no connection to the man who caused you a serious injury that has affected your life profoundly'."

Gillian stared at him for a moment. "Look at you acting like a real psychologist." But her tone was teasing and she broke into a smile. She reached up a hand to brush it across his cheek lightly. "We could go somewhere, blow work off."

"I heard 'blow' and 'go somewhere'."

Gillian laughed lightly. "We could talk."

"Let me think about what to say first," Cal counter offered.

"Why do I get the feeling you're about to tell me you're not coming back in?"

"Probably cos I'm about to tell you I'm gonna take the aftanoon and I'm not comin' back in."

Gillian nodded solemnly. "Figured."

"That's all right isn't it?"

"You don't need my permission Cal."

"I was askin' as your business partna," he leaned in closer to her to get her undivided attention.

"You should do what you need to do," she responded simply.

"I just need a few hours to clear my head."

"Don't clear it of everything though," she warned.

Cal chuckled lightly. He kissed the corner of her mouth. "Deal."

"Hey!" Gillian protested. "Pathetic kiss."

"Sorry," Cal turned his body towards her, cupped her jaw and kissed her properly. Softly. Slowly. With yearning. Until he felt his stomach clench up. He was so in love with her. She was even more stunning when she was pregnant.

"Geeze," Gillian breathed when he pulled away again. Her eyes had gotten just a little darker. But that wasn't the point. "Will you pick Lewis up from day care?"

"I can yeah," Cal agreed. He gave her another quick kiss and moved away.

**PJ**

When Gillian got home that evening Cal was hovering by the door to the garage. She had left early but hit traffic anyway and was on the edge of succumbing to frustration. And then she found Cal hanging out by the door and almost snapped at him for stalking her. Sometimes he was just too close. He gave a pleased smile as she came in and took her hand. Wordlessly, despite her asking him what he was doing, he led her to the couch and sat her down against a pile of cushions. He sat at the other end of the three-seater, switching out her hand for her feet. He swivelled her as he sat, placing her feet in his lap and removing her shoes.

"How was your aftanoon?" He started with her right foot.

Gillian's leg flinched as he pressed his thumbs into the pad of her foot and she accidentally kicked him. Cal gave her a surprised expression. "Too much?"

"No," Gillian remembered to breathe. "Perfect." She caught a pleased expression he tried to hide. She wiggled her toes into his hand again, encouraging him to continue. "Where's Lewis?"

"Upstairs with a friend."

"A friend?"

"Yeah his Mum got caught up, asked if he could come ova for a bit. He'll go home soon."

Gillian nodded. She shifted down the couch so her head was resting on the arm. Cal worked her heel and she just about died. High heels killed when she was pregnant. She had forgotten that. Plus she still wanted to hold on to her usual habits. She wasn't quite ready to succumb to being a blimp yet. She wasn't quite half way. "My afternoon was uneventful."

"I text Loke-a to thank him for today."

Gillian raised an eyebrow, impressed. Cal shifted back to the pad of her foot and her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily for a second. He really was so very good at knowing exactly what she needed. She felt the annoyance of her ride home dispel so easily. "So how was your afternoon?"

"Good," Cal sighed. "I went for a walk down by the riva."

Gillian nodded. He had done that when they were trying to get pregnant the first time. It seemed to be his place to go. Clear his head. Fresh air.

"Doesn't make a lot of sense to dwell on it you know?"

"Sure."

"He'll be held accountable." He paused. "Or maybe he won't." He shrugged. "The thing is. With Mitchell, it felt so much more personal. I wanted him to be punished."

"That's understandable."

"Yeah and this time, even though the circumstances are simila, I just want to move on. You know?" He looked over at her pointedly. He let her foot go and picked up the other.

"I know," Gillian agreed with a slight strain in her voice as he relieved the lingering pressure of the day. Because that's what she wanted too, to just put it behind her and move the hell on. Just get on with life. It had been six months since the accident now. She wanted to forget about it, like it had never happened. They had a baby and a high risk pregnancy to worry about. "I know exactly what you mean."

"I like that we're on the same page about a lot of things," Cal noted.

"Me too," Gillian gave a slight laugh of surprise.

"Have you noticed we don't fight much?"

"Yes."

Cal observed her foot for a moment. "You need to cut your toenails."

"If it wasn't so difficult to reach my feet right now I might bother," Gillian retorted.

"All right," Cal got up suddenly, swinging her feet out of the way, then placing them on the couch.

"Where are you going?" Gillian asked, propping herself up on her elbows slightly.

"I'm gonna go check on the munchkin and the rest of the lollipop guild. And get some nail clippas."

Munchkin. Gillian's heart squeezed painfully. And she was sufficiently distracted enough to be unable to protest against Cal claiming he was going to cut her toenails. Seriously? In the time he was gone she thought about getting something to eat but was actually quite comfortable. Comfortable enough to not want to move and ruin it.

"Here," an apple appeared in her face.

Gillian looked up surprised. Cal was offering her the fruit. She took it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I haven't even thought about dinna yet." He swatted at her feet to get her to shift them out of the way so he could sit again. Gillian spotted what was in his hands; an assortment of nail polish bottles.

She narrowed her eyes at him as he set them on the couch's middle cushion and she took a bite of the fruit. "Lewis?" She asked around her mouthful.

"He's fine. He's playin' nicely for once, not tearin' his room to shreds."

"Here's a question," Gillian started. "Are the boys going to share?"

"They'll have to," Cal responded absently, selecting the clippers first. "I dunno about movin' Lewis downstairs on his own. Too risky with him not hearin' so well."

Gillian watched him. She attempted to hide her toes under his thigh. He carried on unperturbed. "And you wouldn't want to move?" She tried.

"I have trouble rememberin' this address, let alone a whole new one," Cal looked over at her, twisting the top of the nail clippers to assemble the lever. "Unless you wanted to in particula?"

"Not in particular. I _really_ like _this_ house. And we spent forever searching for it."

Cal nodded. He didn't remember that particular detail. "You know what we should talk about?" He placed a hand over the back of her foot in preparation.

"What's that?" Gillian tempted to shift her foot out of his reach.

Cal gripped tighter. "Car seats, cribs, bassinets, clothes, bottles."

All the things Gillian had got rid of after while dealing with Lily's death. Everything had gone. She never thought she would be doing this again. Never. "Oh," she agreed. "Yeah we should think about that soon."

"Before or afta the trauma of Christmas to my bank account?"

Gillian smiled and he selected her smallest toe while she was distracted. "After I think. Christmas is enough to deal with."

"Fair enough," Cal agreed. "Now hold still, or I'll cut you."


	13. Chapter 13

He was suffocating. He couldn't breathe air in. Not without feeling like he was drowning. And all the while he was aware of how heavy his arms felt, how unresponsive and foreign; he flickered to being outside himself. But he wasn't able to look down like he was literally having some sort of out of body experience. No he was trapped inside his mind, blackening into periods of stillness, where he was only aware of the panic, of the choking sensation, like someone was trying to cram something down the back of his throat. He was resisting. He was fighting. In his own way. He _was_ trying. But what was he meant to do when his mind wouldn't connect with his body; when his body wouldn't listen to him? He could hear breathing, rasping and wondered if that was him. It sounded like it was coming from so far away. Reaching for it would have been impossible. Were there words?

He was afraid. For the first time in a very, very long time, he was afraid, and he was suddenly aware of just how much. He had so much to lose. Before, with Zoe, he didn't care. He thought about Emily and he knew in most ways she was better off without him. He was a terrible role model. He was an awful husband. He had let both of them down. But now, this time, with Gillian, his second chance at getting it right; he knew what it meant to be happy for real. So real it was tangible. What he wouldn't do for her...

If he could just get out of here. He stretched his arms out, tugging against the restraints. There had to be give somewhere. The tethers would have to break at some point wouldn't they? This would end. Surely. Hopefully. Please?

Cal twitched awake. His arms flinched so hard they lifted from where they rested and Gillian stirred. His heart was pounding and he felt stricken and for a second, he was disorientated.

"Dream?" The sleepy warmth of his wife asked.

Cal grounded himself in her voice. "Yes," he whispered. "Sorry."

Gillian reached out with her hand. She was practically in the middle of the bed, she didn't have to stretch far. She found his upper arm, squeezed it gently. "Tell me?"

"It's nothin'. I don't know what it was."

"You're afraid."

Cal was still for a second, silent, scared. "I was," he admitted. "It felt real." Gillian made a sympathetic noise, found the edge of his t-shirt and tugged on it, encouraging him to come closer to her. He obliged, pressed against the baby gently, anchoring himself further. He knew where he was now. He slid his arm over hers, pressed his palm against her back while her fingers slid around his ribs. She made a content sound this time and Cal shifted in closer, to get more contact around the lump that was their child in her womb.

"Better?"

"Much," Cal agreed. He dared to open an eye. It was grey. Too early for getting up. Robbed of another sleep in. "I love you Gill." He murmured into her hair.

"Love you too."

"Do you know how much?"

"Yes."

"You sure?" He breathed in the smell of her.

"Yes," Gillian whispered. "I know."

"Good."

"Do you know how much I love you?"

"Yes I know," Cal confirmed. "I know," he repeated, whispering a kiss against her skin, her cheek he suspected, perhaps her ear. Hard to tell.

Gillian gave a little moan. "Good."

Cal noted how tightly she gripped him. He wondered what she was thinking about. And now that they were awake he fell into his typical talkative routine. Who knew why? He used to be content with the silence, used to prefer it in fact, but now, with Gillian, he couldn't shut up; as soon as he knew she was awake he wanted to talk to her, to hear what she was thinking, to run theory by her. "This week is a milestone."

"Is it?" Gillian sounded confused.

"Half way," Cal whispered into her hair.

"Hmm?"

"Twenty weeks."

"You're counting?"

"I'm keepin' track yeah. Aren't you?"

"Blur," Gillian muttered.

Cal shifted to kiss her forehead, cracking his eyes again to make sure he found the right place. Gillian gave a pleased hum. "Half way," he repeated. He shifted his hand to her stomach, smoothing his fingers over the fabric of the shirt she was wearing. "And then he'll be here." He shifted his hand again to brush Gillian's cheek.

"And we do it all again," Gillian added.

"Yeah," Cal agreed. Gillian shifted with a frown. "What?" Cal queried lightly.

"Have to pee."

"Aw," Cal complained as she slowly eased herself away from him, towards the edge of the mattress and swung her feet to the carpet. She sat for a moment and then gave a little laugh. "What?"

"Just admiring my toes," Gillian responded and stood. Cal closed his eyes again and turned on to his back. He wondered how much time he would get with her before Lewis showed up. Usually on a Saturday they got a little extra sleep in; to just be.

When Gillian came back she climbed into bed on Cal's side, pressing up against his hip and shoulder. "Cold toes," Cal noted.

"Warm them up for me."

Cal turned over to embrace her; the bump between them. He had just settled with his arm around her when she pushed against his chest again. "Sorry," she murmured. "Have to move." She shifted awkwardly, slowly, until she was on her other side. Cal snuggled up tightly behind her, able to get much closer to her warmth now the bump was out of the way. "Better," Gillian announced. Her hand came back to grip his thigh gently. Cal crossed her arm to squeeze her leg in return. "That felt nice," Gillian murmured. Cal shifted the hand again, firmly kneading her flesh with one hand as he made his way higher. "You know what else we should talk about?" Gillian went on.

"What's that?" Cal asked absently.

"Lewis and school. We need to pick one."

"Oh right," Cal noted. He hadn't even thought about that. "And soon. Applications will be due soon won't they?" Well, in the New Year but the year got busy at this time. Christmas was coming up. And they still actually had to decide on somewhere to apply. Or a few places, just in case.

"Applications? What are you talking about?"

"You know. Private school."

"Oh," Gillian sounded full of resignation.

"You don't want him to go to private school?"

"I just assumed he would go to public, like you and I did."

"Yeah but I think Lewis would need somethin' more."

"Because of his hearing?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that making it into a bigger deal than it is?"

"I'm not talkin' about a school for the deaf. I'm talkin' about smalla classrooms, more teacha focus. You know sometimes the words get lost in the crowd. Thirty kids in one room is gonna be tough on him."

Gillian remained silent for a moment. She shifted again, as if she were uncomfortable.

"Is your back botherin' you?" Cal allowed a change in subject. He was pretty sure they would be talking about private school again. It would be better to let her think about the possibility a little. And to not have this conversation as soon as she had woken up.

"Sleeping too long in one place," Gillian grumped.

"I shall wake you on a regula schedule to turn you ova then," Cal murmured into her neck, pressing a kiss against her skin, while his hand slipped beneath her shirt to find her spine. Gillian suddenly bucked her hips back against him as he pressed his fingers against her bones. "Am I hurtin' you?"

"No," Gillian's voice was strained. "Feels good."

Cal dared to go harder, smoothing out each side, then heading lower, working her hip bones and then he remembered something. He slipped his fingers beneath the elastic of her underwear. "Hey!" She protested immediately, twitching away from him, withdrawing her hand to his forearm. Cal kept going, ignoring her continued protests to find her tail bone. He pressed his fingers firmly against it and she flinched hard, bucking in to him. "Oh my god!"

Cal drove the tip of his index finger against the bone, making sure it was beyond firm. Gillian whimpered and Cal felt her struggle for air. "Relax," he urged her.

"Oh Cal," she moaned loudly in response; her fingers tightened uncomfortably around his wrist.

"Shh," Cal hushed her gently. "Anyone would think we're havin' sex."

"Keep on like that and we just might be," Gillian uttered.

Cal eased off until he felt her muscles retract then pushed gently again. Gillian tensed again. "God that feels so good!" She enthused. "How do you know?"

"I googled it."

"I meant, how do you know exactly what I need when I need it? Do you read my face?"

"I know you," Cal's voice was caressing in its own right, just behind her ear. "I know your body, the way you hold tension, when." He shifted his finger to her buttocks, massaging each one in little circles, radiating out from her spine.

Gillian gave another slight moan and her fingers eased up on his flesh. "You google ways to rub my back?"

"Well, ways to ease the tension of your spine movin' out to make room for the baby."

"If you get any more perfect I may just gag on the sugary sweetness of it."

Cal reached her hips and stopped, resting his hand in her waist. He planted another soft kiss just beneath her ear. Gillian suddenly grabbed his hand and positioned it on her stomach, to the left and slightly down. "Can you feel that?"

Cal waited a beat, holding his breath, wishing his heart would stop for just a second so he could determine exactly what was the baby's feet and what was his pulse. "No," he let the breath go.

Gillian continued to hold his hand in place and they both waited in silence for a moment. And then Cal could feel it. The sudden pressure of a little something, under his palm; a foot or hand? "Now you can feel him," Gillian noted gently. She had been able to feel the baby moving around inside her for a few weeks now.

"Yeah," Cal agreed in awe.

"Cal, that's our son."

"Yeah," he agreed again, his throat closing off strangely. He cleared it.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes," he half-laughed. "It's just amazin'. Knowin' he's in there. Feelin' him for that first time. Can't take that moment back."

Gillian listened to the hint of excitement in his voice. Moments like these were the best. The two of them, snuggled up in bed, warm, him making her feel like she was a goddess to be worshipped. "Cal," she breathed, shifting her hand, leaning back against his chest so she could caress the scratch of his cheek.

He moved then, throwing the covers over his head as he shifted down the bed. He pulled back her shirt, kissed her bare skin, caressed her belly. "Hi in there. I'm your Dad. I'm lookin' forward to hangin' out with you properly. I have no idea if you can even hear me yet but I don't care." He kissed his wife's belly again. "Cos I already love you and I'll be here when you're born. By the way your Mum has a sexy accent." He moved again, crawling up her body, careful to keep his weight on his arms. "I don't think I've eva told her how much I love how she says my name."

Gillian gave him a slight smile as he appeared from beneath the covers, eyes serious, hair messed up.

"Specially when we're doin' it."


	14. Chapter 14

"Strolla," Cal wrote down. "What else?"

Gillian gave a slight sigh. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think crib, bassinet, car seat, bottles, breast pump, wipes, _nappies_," here he looked over at her pointedly. "Changin' table, hats, booties and otha assorted clothin' items and a strolla just about covas it."

"Hm," Gillian mused. There was probably something else. But she couldn't think very well at the moment. Cal called it her 'baby brain'. Between the two of them they often ran the risk of forgetting to do something.

Cal closed his notebook, a new one for all those little reminders he had a hard time keeping track of, and slipped it into his suit jacket pocket. Diversion successful. Waiting made her nervous and they had already been kept ten minutes. Ten minutes was enough time for her to get anxious. She was worse when she was pregnant. She was worse at a lot of things. The nagging, the anxiety, the worry, the arguing.

"Any particular reason we had to have this conversation now?" Gillian asked lightly. She didn't relax, but sat with a straight back.

Cal looked over at her innocently. They were the only ones currently in the waiting room. "What?" His voice rose in mock indignation.  
>Gillian leaned towards him, hugging his arm. "Trying to distract me?"<p>

"How'd I do?"

"Great."

"Until you cottoned on and then humoured me."

Gillian gave a slight laugh. She patted his thigh. "You do very well Cal."

"Keep talkin'," Cal encouraged in a low voice.

"I thought I was supposed to be swooning over _your_ accent."

"Perhaps it's a side effect."

"Don't joke," Gillian straightened up again, serious once more.

Cal reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I don't think it's the accent, I think it's you," he murmured in her ear before planting a kiss against her temple. Gillian shivered a little and then the nurse called for her.

Doctor Johansson weighed her, took her blood pressure, made her pee in a cup and then sit up on the bed for an examination. He checked her cervix was closed. He asked how she felt. Gillian told him about the heartburn and the sore back, but otherwise she was fine.

"Ok, we'll just do a quick scan," Doctor Johansson indicated Gillian should stay where she was in the stirrups. "Make sure everything is progressing as it should."

Gillian reached out a hand for Cal's and he gripped it carefully while Doctor Johansson set up his ultrasound equipment. "Now," the doctor continued to talk while he brought over a trolley and pulled on a fresh pair of latex gloves. "Have you been experiencing any Braxton Hicks contractions?"

"No," Gillian answered.

"Any contractions at all?"

"No."

"Your back pain, describe it to me," he turned the device on and checked it was working properly.

Gillian exchanged a glance with Cal. "A dull ache in the muscles in my lower back and hips."

"No squeezing sensations?"

"What's this about?" Cal butted in.

Doctor Johansson prepared the internal device with a condom and gel. Gillian didn't get a choice. She was high risk; age plus history. She got the internal scans. The doctor turned to them. "As I'm sure you're aware, there are several risks of a pregnancy at Gillian's age. After twenty-four weeks one of the major concerns is pre-term labour." He paused. "So if you feel contractions that don't feel like Braxton Hicks', that are long and strong, or there are four in one hour. Call me immediately."

"Ok," Gillian agreed and Cal could feel the tension returning to her fingers.

"What if, say, she does?" Cal asked the question Gillian was surely thinking but couldn't voice. "What happens then?"

Doctor Johansson scooted his stool closer to Gillian's feet. He warned her about the scanning device being cold. Then he explained the response to pre-term labour differed based on how many weeks of gestation the baby was at. Cal listened carefully. Gillian tensed up at the coldness and then after that, neither of them really paid much more attention to anything but the screen as it came to life with the baby's image. An internal device was wonderfully clear. They could make out details of features without grainy static in the way. The baby turned over several times, kicking out and waving his arms; like he was showing off for them.

Cal felt his heart swell. There he was. That was the little man responsible for the feeble kicking he could feel against Gillian's skin. Doctor Johansson double checked there were ten fingers, ten toes, two arms, two legs. "And one head," he added. "Definitely not twins."

Not that Cal was expecting anything else. Twins, that was. It was a miracle Gillian got pregnant with just the one, let alone two. The doctor assured them everything else was fine, the baby seemed healthy. He took measurements, from crown to rump and around the abdomen, to estimate the height of the baby, around eleven and a half inches and the weight, about a pound; a block of butter. Still so tiny. Cal couldn't imagine it being born now. Gillian was twenty-three weeks. The baby would survive if it was born now, hopefully, but it would have problems. His problems would be more severe than Lewis's.

"And he is most definitely a he," Johansson confirmed. It was possible to predict the sex as early as fifteen weeks, but that was based on the direction of a lump that would later form into sex organs. Not very accurate and totally dependent on the person doing the scan. But the baby had always felt like a boy to Cal and now it was official. He could see that for himself.

After they got a print out of the baby blowing amniotic fluid out of its lungs, everything was packed away and Gillian was allowed to get dressed again. Doctor Johansson talked to them again about premature labour, about alleviating the heartburn and the back pain. He said he would call if there were any abnormalities in Gillian's urine test. Aside from that he would see Gillian in a few weeks for another check up.

The car ride back to the office was pretty quiet. Cal wanted to say something comforting but he wasn't quite sure what exactly was on Gillian's mind. The sight of their son? Or the fear of an early delivery? He went for positive as he parked his car. He leaned over to rest his head on her shoulder, and gently encouraged her to open the envelope containing the scan and pull it out. "That's our little man," Cal murmured.

"Yeah," Gillian whispered.

"He's beautiful."

"Yeah," Gillian agreed.

"You're beautiful," Cal told her, turning his head to kiss her cheek. "Thank you."

Gillian turned to him. "For?"

"Marryin' me. Givin' me sons."

"I haven't yet," Gillian warned.

"Not yet," Cal affirmed. But he said it with a light tone of voice; a hopeful way. He was still the optimist.

**PJ**

"Dad?"

"I'm talkin'," Cal turned to him, making small circles by his mouth.

"Yeah but," Lewis looked unsure for a second. "I read all the books." Book: flat hands, the palms pressed together opened on a hinge along the underside of the pinky finger, and was repeated.

"You can go and get more," Cal told him. He used both hands to point 'over there', which was actually 'go'. 'More' was using both hands, fingers grouped together, starting apart, in front of his chest, then bringing the fingers together so their tips met.

"Ok," Lewis agreed.

"You remember where?" Cal made a question out of his face and signed 'remember': his right hand a closed fist with the thumb resting on top. The thumbnail pressed against his forehead, then he brought it down to his waiting left hand, in the same closed fist, but by his waist.

"Um," Lewis looked over his shoulder.

"You go down there," Cal pointed. "And then go that way," he turned his finger to the left. "Ok?"

"Ok," Lewis agreed.

"Wait!" Cal called before he could run off. "Take those ones back." He pointed to the books and signed 'back': finger-spelling the 'B', a slight formation of the 'C' into the 'K'.

Lewis walked around the table to collect the books he had finished with. He stacked them into his hands, dropping a few but sorting them out himself, into a pile on the floor so he could pick them up more easily. Cal watched him, amused at the way he worked out his problem. The kid so desperately wanted to be treated like a 'big boy'. The day the plastic sheet had gone from his bed had been just so exciting! And now that he could feel the baby kicking from his mother's womb, Lewis seemed to be understanding what was happening. He was going to be a big brother. And he was accordingly informing Cal and his mother of all the ways he was a 'big boy' now and how he was going to help his little brother get dressed in the morning and get his breakfast and all the other things Lewis could do now that he was older that a little brother could not.

Too cute.

Lewis righted his books and straightened up, heading off. Cal turned back to Kent, who had also watched the four year old with interest. Kent was an only child; just him and his mother. He seemed to enjoy hanging out with Lewis a great deal. Cal asked which version of 'take' he should have used; his hesitation meaning he didn't sign the word at all. Kent showed him a 'grabbing' motion, as in 'to take an object' and Cal nodded, jotted the answer down on with his other notations.

"Probably shouldn't be too much longa," he said and signed. He shook his head, signed 'too' by making a 'T' hand, starting it by his chin and moving it outwards to finish in an 'O' hand. 'Long' was pointing with his index finger towards the back of his left hand and sliding it up the length of his arm to his shoulder. Kent nodded. He signed 'same' and 'mother' and 'home' and 'soon'. Cal signed and said: "I want to get home before Gillian. So she doesn't take it upon herself to start makin' dinna." It was a basic almost bastardised form of signing but Cal understood what was said and Kent understood Cal and so in that way it worked. If he wanted to get a qualification in signing he would have to do a lot better. If he walked into a room of American Sign speakers they would probably laugh him down; but he would be able to understand that they were mocking him.

Kent asked how Gillian was.

"Good," Cal responded. "Gettin' huge." He widened his hands from in front of him out to the sides with a 'whoa' kind of facial expression. Cal reached for his phone and produced a photo for Kent to see. He laughed and waved his hand over his face in an encompassing gesture. "She is," Cal agreed with a nod. "Very beautiful." He put his phone away as Lewis came racing up.

"Dad!" He shoved a book into Cal's chest awkwardly. "Look! Robots!"

"Fantastic!" Cal enthused. He shifted the sharp corner of the book out of his sternum to look at the cover. He should take Lewis the library more often. He loved books and there was a collection here far more extensive than his own at home. Better still, there were different books, new ones and classics and they were free to access. Too bad there just wasn't enough time in the week. Even with taking several afternoons off to meet with Kent, or Wu, or Rockwell, Cal didn't always get the quality time to do something cool like this with his son. This was the first 'lesson' Cal had brought Lewis along to. The three of them had had a basic conversation, so Lewis could follow and join in, then Cal had taken him on the hunt for books. Gillian was shifting into part time hours after Christmas. Cal could suggest the library to her on the afternoons Lewis finished his pre-school class early. If she wasn't completely exhausted that was. Running around after a four year old, even one as well behaved as Lewis, was tiring.

"Come up here and read it," Cal pulled Lewis's chair closer. Lewis attempted to climb into it while holding the book, but with his hands full it was difficult. "Want some help?" Cal offered; his right hand, in a fist, but with the thumb extended upwards, cupped in the palm of his left.

"I do it," Lewis told him.

Kent chuckled then suddenly reached into his pocket. Cal suggested Lewis put the book on the table, then climb up. Lewis tried it, even as he batted his father's hands away from helping. He was a big boy after all. He could manage. And he did. Kent leaned over to Cal's elbow and gave it a squeeze. Cal gave him his attention. Kent waved the phone slightly and signed 'mother' 'home' 'now'.

Cal nodded, "I'll let Lewis read for a bit." Meaning he was going to stay.

"Kent," Lewis spoke up. "Look at that one!" He pointed to the page and looked up to see Kent's reaction. The teenager gave Lewis a broad grin and signed 'cool': a closed or pinched 'G' hand shape, on the right side of his chin, giving it a sharp twist forward. "You read to me," Lewis shoved the book closer in his direction. Kent reached over to take the book.

"You can't see from there," Cal pointed out. Lewis jumped down from his chair and rushed around his father to climb into Kent's lap. The older boy put the book down to place his hands under Lewis's arms and pull him onto his legs. Lewis grabbed the book, his face lit up with excitement at all the different robots, and pointed to where Kent was supposed to start reading. Kent had a look at the words and started signing. Lewis turned his head slightly to see Kent's hands and the book. Cal pulled his phone back out of his pocket and snapped a picture. Lewis didn't notice, but Kent glanced over and smiled. Cal smiled right on back and sent the image to Gillian.

As the boys neared the end of the book, and Cal had put a serious dent in his homework, Gillian text back: **2 CUTE**

"Come on," Cal interrupted once the book cover had been closed in finality. "Home time," he told Lewis, moving his closed fingers from his mouth to his ear.

Lewis slid off Kent's lap. "Ok."

"Take the book back," Cal handed it to him. "Where you found it."

Lewis nodded and ran off.

"And don't run," Cal added under his breath. There was no point in calling out; Lewis wouldn't be able to hear him.

Kent signed that he should go too and Cal impulsively offered him a ride home. "Seein' as I'm a big boy and am allowed to drive now."

Kent gave a polite smile and then accepted. He gathered together his things. Cal returned the sign books to the shelves. Lewis came racing back. He crashed into his father who told him off for being noisy. They had to be quiet in a library. And it would be good practice for when the baby was sleeping. But he didn't tell Lewis that. He didn't quite have the heart to break the illusion of the new playmate Lewis was convinced he was going to receive.

They headed out for the car and Kent climbed into the front. Cal clipped Lewis's seatbelt, making sure if fit properly and then headed around for the driver's side. When he opened his door he could hear Lewis asking Kent if he was going to come to their house. Kent told him 'no' he was going to his house. "Then are you gonna ride with us?" Lewis queried. Kent said yes he was.

"Sometimes we take my friend to his house."

'Nice,' Kent responded. He brushed the fingers of his dominant hand over the flat palm and fingers of his left. The sign for 'nice' and 'clean' were the same.

"Dad said do nice things for friends." Friends: the index fingers extended from the rest of the fingers, the right gripped around the left, then the movement was repeated but this time the left locked around the right.

Kent smiled. He nodded in agreement. He pointed at Lewis and signed 'Dad' and 'cool'.

"I know!" Lewis scrunched up on himself as if he was sharing a highly exciting secret.

Cal reached over to get Kent's attention. "You'll have to direct me," he interrupted.

Kent pointed to the left and Cal made the turn out of the library car park and on to the street.


	15. Chapter 15

"Dad how can I sit in the front?"

Cal killed the engine and turned to face his son. "When you're bigga."

"I am big," he responded indignantly. He gave his father a contrived pout, looking so much like Gillian in the process. Cal thought about laughing it off, then thought better of it. The boy was clearly hurt, he could see it in his eyes. "Kent's in the front and Mum's in the front," the pre-schooler went on.

"Yeah because they're talla than you at the moment," Cal started. "Come here," he gestured and Lewis undid his seatbelt and slid out of his booster chair to climb across the divide into the front. Cal directed him to sit in the passenger seat. "You see here," he pointed to the dash. "If there was an accident a special bag comes out of here so when you go forward you don't hit your head." He pushed Lewis forward gently and simulated the airbag deploying. "And for big people like Kent and Mum, the bag hits them here," Cal indicated his chest. "Like a big pillow. But for you," he brought his hand to Lewis's face like a claw. Lewis laughed slightly and fended him off. "It would hurt you. It could really hurt you." Lewis's face got serious again as he listened. "So you have to sit into the back until you get talla."

"When's that?"

"Ages away," Cal admitted. Lewis looked glum for a moment. "But you know what?" Lewis looked up at him. His legs were stretched out over the seat, his ankles hung off the end only. Way too small for sitting in the front yet. "I promise you, you can sit in the front before the baby does. Ok?"

Lewis smiled pleasantly and nodded. "Good man," Cal indicated he was going to give Lewis a hug. The boy climbed to his feet and lunged at his father. Cal shifted him to his lap and wrapped his arms around him. "Shall we go in?"

Lewis nodded his agreement. "I push the button."

"Ok," Cal held out the remote for the garage door. Lewis pushed it and looked over his father's shoulder to see the mechanism start to go. Cal let Lewis out of the car as the garage door hit the concrete gently. Cal stared for a second, his mind on Mitchell suddenly. The sound of the garage door and parking his car in the driveway before... Then he shook himself out of it, slammed the car door and headed inside. By the time he got to the kitchen Lewis was already telling Gillian all about the books at the library, particularly the one with all the robots in it.

"Sounds very exciting," Gillian looked down at her son who was gripping her arms and bouncing gently on his toes, his head craned way back to see his mother's face.

"Up," Lewis requested.

"No I can't lift you Lewis," Gillian told him softly. Lewis pouted. He signed 'hug'. Gillian crouched down in front of him instead and put her arms around him. Lewis hooked around her neck and clung on. "And how's my big boy? Did you have fun at the library?" Gillian looked up to her husband.

Cal signed 'yes'.

"I'm getting the silent treatment from you too?" Gillian started to pry Lewis off her. Lewis jiggled on the spot in protest and let out a disgruntled sound. "Careful you'll knock me over," Gillian complained.

Cal intervened, prying their son off her and lifting him to his hip. "You gotta be careful with Mum rememba?"

Lewis pouted again. He signed 'eat'.

Cal wondered if he should tell him off for not talking or applaud him for signing. Tricky. He offered his wife his hand and she used it to regain her balance on her feet. He put Lewis down again. "You can have a snack."

Lewis went to his shelf in the pantry where there were small packets of chips, snack bars, bananas, his portioned cereal and other little treasures stored, including crayons, pencils, felt tip pens and scrap paper. He also had miniature trucks, trains and cars there. It was an odd assortment for a food storage area but there wasn't much room in the open kitchen/dining room/lounge area for him to have his own space. As long as he kept it tidy, and picked up after himself at the end of the day it didn't seem like such a big deal.

Cal turned to Gillian. "How was your aftanoon?"

"Fine," Gillian responded. "Nothing eventful to report."

But Cal was already leaning down to kiss her belly. "Hi little guy. Daddy's home." The baby could hear him now, and other voices and noises outside of the womb. He startled at loud bangs. "Kent wishes you a Merry Christmas." Cal rubbed his hand over the material of Gillian's shirt. She filled out her maternity wear now and if it was even possible she looked sexier to Cal. Cute to everyone else, sexy as hell to him.

"Feeling like an incubator Cal," Gillian warned him. Cal straightened up.

"Dad this!" Lewis called from the walk-in pantry.

Cal saw the bar he was holding up. "Yes," he confirmed it was all right for Lewis to have that particular food item. Cal still hand his hands on his wife's stomach, so slid them around her waist and stepped forward until he could feel the baby against his abdomen. He planted a kiss on Gillian's mouth. "What can I do for you this evenin'?" Cal murmured.

"Well, I'll wait until Lewis goes to bed before I tell you about that," Gillian started.

Cal turned his head to see her face, surprised, pleased, but surprised. Gillian gave a smirk and Cal broke into a grin. "And in the meantime? Back rub? Foot rub? Somethin' to eat?"

"Yes please."

"All right," he agreed. "All of the above. Go sit. Let's start with a snack. And then I'll tell you about meetin' Kent's Mum finally. "

Gillian went to the couch and Cal made her something to eat, then started on dinner while they talked. After Gillian ate she slouched, her feet on the coffee table in front of her and closed her eyes. Cal suspected she would go to sleep and after fifteen minutes it seemed she had. He snuck over to Lewis, took his arm to get his attention. He made a 'quiet' gesture, his index finger over his closed lips. Lewis looked at him perturbed but when Cal indicated Lewis should come with him he slid down the couch and followed. Cal headed for the kitchen door and then crouched to Lewis's height. "Wanna help me do somethin' nice for Mum?"

Lewis seemed to consider it but nodded. And Cal found that interesting, because he was usually such a willing participant. Cal outlined his plan and Lewis nodded again and they headed upstairs.

**PJ**

"Gillian," Cal murmured. She had been asleep for more than half an hour and if she kept on sleeping she was going to miss dinner and take longer to get to sleep that night.

"Hmm?" She hummed and pried her eyes open.

"Hey you. Come on," he took her hands and gently pulled her to sit up.

"Did you take Lewis shopping?" She started, seemingly picking up where they had left off earlier. What the hell had she been dreaming about!

"Yes," Cal confirmed. He shifted her feet to the floor.

"Did you get everything?"

"Yes," Cal repeated. He gently pulled her to stand.

"You should get the presents wrapped for under the tree."

"Got it cova-ed," Cal responded, leading her across the room.

"Did you get something for Emily?"

"It's sorted," Cal pulled her along behind him for the stairs.

As they started up she was quiet, and then: "I'm nagging again aren't I?"

"Yes," he answered neutrally.

"I'm sorry," Gillian whined as they headed up to the second floor slowly. "It's just."

"Baby brain," Cal finished as he turned to walk backwards down the hall, giving her slightly raised eyebrows, but more than a suggestion, it was an acknowledgement. The nesting hadn't started just yet but Cal suspected with her home more than he was, and with the house being so much bigger than the last one, it was going to kick in real soon. 'Baby brain' covered a multitude of sins: forgetfulness, the nagging, the occasional crying for no apparent reason...

"Where are we going?" Gillian suddenly frowned.

Cal reached the bathroom door where Lewis was leaning over the bath playing with the bubbles. "Bath."

Gillian resisted a little. "Isn't that in England?" She smirked.

Cal gave her a patient smile back.

"Dinner?"

"Don't _worry_," Cal told her pointedly. "I have it all unda control. When have I eva let you down?"

Gillian shut up pretty quickly after that. He had never let her down. Her heart fluttered, reminding her she was in love with this man. As if she had forgotten.

"Mum look what we made you!" Lewis turned to find them standing there. He came over. "Have to take clothes off." He tugged at her shirt, attempting to lift it. He could reach as far as the top of the baby bump and managed to expose the expanse of bare skin there. They all looked down, Cal and Gillian in amusement, and all saw the baby's hand push out against Gillian's abdomen. "Oh!" Lewis startled. He let Gillian's shirt go but she brought up a hand to hold it herself.

Cal put a hand over the spot where the baby pushed. "Hi little guy." The baby pushed again and Cal soothed that place.

"I do it," Lewis pushed his father's hand out of the way.

"Say hi baby," Gillian prompted.

"Hi baby," Lewis leaned in so his mouth was almost on his mother's skin. He patted next to her belly button. Cal grinned, amused, and exchanged one of those stupid gooey expressions with his wife that made his stomach screw itself up in excitement. The baby clearly knew he was on display. He turned somersaults and kicked out where Lewis had patted. Lewis laughed in delight. "Hi," he repeated patting again. "Hi!" The baby kicked again and this time Gillian winced.

"That was sharp," she explained to Cal.

"All right," Cal took Lewis by the shoulders. "We should let Mum get in before the wart-a gets cold yeah?"

Lewis looked up at him, his neck craned right over to see. He nodded, awkwardly. Cal directed him to get Mum a towel from their bathroom and the boy ran off. "And don't run inside," Cal added quietly. He was going to have to talk to Lewis about that. He turned to Gillian instead. "Let's get you undressed."

Gillian gave him a coy smirk. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Cal stepped forward and started unbuttoning her shirt. "Not _all_ the girls. Just the ones I'm tryin' to get naked." He stripped her shirt off her shoulders and threw it to the floor. Gillian looked after it longingly but held her tongue. "I'll get it in a minute," Cal told her and she sighed and turned back to him. He undid her jeans and pushed them down her hips so they also dropped to the floor. She held on to his arms as she kicked out of them.

Lewis came back, dragging the tail end of her towel on the floor and holding the rest above his head. "Dad it's heavy."

Cal took it from him. "Thanks buddy." He hung it on the rack while Gillian stripped off her underwear. She reached out a hand to her husband for balance and he held on to her tightly as she stepped over the rim of the bath and sunk down into the water and bubbles. Then he let her go.

"I got you this," Lewis indicated a boat. "And this," a rubber ducky. He also pointed out the various animals dressed up as ninjas, the whale that squirted water out of its mouth and a flower, that did nothing but float on the surface. Lewis started playing, or demonstrating, and even after Gillian thanked him he didn't seem to get the point that he was meant to leave her to it.

"Let's go," Cal directed him by the shoulder. He waited for Lewis to drop the toys and marched him over to the boy's own blue towel with spider man crouched on one side. He waited for Lewis to dry his hands and then directed him towards the door. "One more thing," Cal turned back and approached. He leaned down and set a baby monitor on the end of the bath. "Early Christmas present." He kissed his wife briefly then pushed Lewis out the door and closed it. Lewis traipsed slowly down the hall, like he was disappointed to be excluded. Cal rushed him and picked him up. Lewis squealed. Cal pretended to munch on his neck and Lewis wriggled and screeched. Cal put him down at the top of the stairs. "Now we can wrap Mum's presents."

Lewis's eyes lit up and Cal nodded. Perfect distraction.

**PJ**

They made her cards too. Lewis drew Santa, one of his favourite topics of conversation, what with Christmas literally around the corner. Cal drew a snowman as well, complete with scarf and top hat and a quirky little smile. Lewis 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over it, impressed, envious, telling his father that his was so much better. Cal told Lewis he liked his Santa very much and 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over it. The baby monitor on the table blinked green at him.

They wrapped Gillian's presents and placed them under the tree in the corner by the sliding doors. There was no child barrier this year. Lewis was a big boy after all and he had promised not to open anything early, or even touch the presents in case something accidentally fell open, like last year. He understood he had to wait. Cal threatened to call Santa and tell him not to bother.

Outside was grey and getting darker and it was hard to tell if that was the setting sun or snow clouds moving in. Ajay had said they were predicting snow before Christmas but it was yet to happen. The clouds rolled in, everyone was sure, but they rolled on out again, so everyone went back to waiting. Cal thought it interesting how much they wanted it to snow for Christmas, and then as soon as it had blanketed the neighbourhood they would all be bitching about the inconvenience of it.

They were writing in their cards when Gillian's voice came over the monitor. Cal looked over at Lewis who hadn't reacted. He should have turned it up louder. He gave Lewis a nudge, signed 'Mum' and 'out'. And Lewis flew into a panic. Cal took his arm. "Finish your card. And put all this away." It was only the paper and crayons they were using to decorate their cards. "And then when you're finished, come up stairs. I'll keep Mum distracted. Ok?"

"Ok," Lewis nodded.

"Good work," Cal offered his fist for Lewis to bump and he did so enthusiastically. "Go, go, go!" Cal got up from the table.


	16. Chapter 16

Cal winced as the milk slid towards the rim of the glass. He should have insisted on carrying it himself. The tide _was_ out but it was his own fault for encouraging Lewis to be a big boy. "Here Dad?" Lewis asked as he turned with the glass of milk in one hand, a plate of cookies in the other.

"Yes on the table so Santa can see them when he puts the presents unda the tree."

There had been some confusion over the chimney being in the other room and the tree in there by the sliding door, but Cal assured Lewis Santa would work it out, he was magical and knew exactly what he was doing, he could tell when Lewis was awake or asleep after all, so the cookies would go by the tree too, not the chimney.

Lewis went down the two steps to the lower level of the living room carefully, the milk sloshing dangerously close to spilling, the cookies sliding over the ceramic. Cal just about cringed but Lewis managed it and he walked slowly and carefully over to the coffee table, his gaze alternating between what he was carrying and where he was going. Cal hovered. Even by the time his reactions kicked in and intervened he wouldn't be able to do much damage control.

Lewis reached the table and put the milk and cookies down carefully, as if he were dealing with crystal. "There."

"Good work," Cal told him, nudging the plate off the edge. "Now it's bed time."

"Hugs," Gillian announced from her position on the couch. She was lying full length on the three-seater, a cushion propping up her head against the arm. She extended her arms and Lewis fell into them. Gillian squeezed him tightly. He was already in his pyjamas; trains. "Kisses," Gillian added, kissing Lewis in a quick succession against his hair, ears and cheek, like Cal used to. Lewis planted a kiss on his mother's cheek. "I love you Lewis." She signed it the long way.

"Luff you too Mum." Lewis mimicked the movement of her hands and arms.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart," Gillian smoothed her hand around the back of his head.

"You have to go to bed so Santa will come," Lewis told her, pointing at her and signing 'sleep'.

"I will. Once Dad puts you to bed he'll put me to bed too."

"Promises, promises," Cal teased. Gillian gave him a smirk over their son's head. Lewis approached his father with his hand held out. Cal gripped it within his and they headed upstairs to the four-year-old's bedroom.

"Dad?"

"Yeah buddy?" Cal asked, pulling the blankets up to his son's chin, after he had climbed in and taken his hearing aids off himself.

"Will the baby be here for Christmas?" He made an arc out of his hand across the air, like a wreath across the top of the room.

"No little man, the baby still has ages to grow before he comes." Cal signed 'long' and 'time' while shaking his head.

"Oh. So he won't get toys for Christmas?" Lewis finger spelled 'toy' rapidly and shook his head against his pillow.

"No, not this Christmas," Cal kissed his forehead. "Next Christmas." 'Next' was both hands in front of his body, one in front of the other, then moving the right hand from behind to in front. Then hands were kept flat, the palms facing the body and the fingers pressed together.

"For my birthday?" He signed 'birth' and 'day' separately.

"Yes, he'll be here before your birthday."

"Before your birthday?"

"Yes before mine as well."

"Now you have to be a good boy and go to sleep, no comin' out."

Lewis nodded solemnly against his pillow. "But sometimes its verr exciting." He opened his hands wide on either side of his body, the middle finger was bent inwards and moved them in wide circles like a Ferris wheel. He had a big grin on his face as well.

"I know," Cal sat on the edge of the bed. "It is very exciting. But you have to stay in bed and go to sleep all the same. All right?" Sleep was pressing his flat hand against his cheek and resting his head on it.

Lewis nodded again. Cal leaned in to give him a hug in bed and the boy clamped his arms around his father's neck. After a minute Cal pried him loose, gave him another kiss, told him he loved him. "Luff you too Dad."

Cal went to the door and pulled it almost closed, then headed downstairs to where Gillian was still lying on the couch. "So he's in bed," Cal announced. "I'll give him half an hour and then check on him."

"Uh huh," Gillian agreed.

Cal sat on the coffee table opposite her. "Can I get you somethin'?"

"Pass me a cookie?"

"Are you kiddin' me? And what if Lewis comes down and notices one missin'? Santa isn't meant to be here yet."

"How's he going to notice?"

"Who taught him to count?"

"I did," Gillian said resignedly. To five, but still... "Fine."

"I'll get you one from the bag," Cal got up.

"Thank you!" Gillian called over the back of the couch. Cal also poured her some milk with a straw; a pre-emptive strike, and brought the late night snack to where she was lying. "Aw, you're too cute!" She gushed as Cal offered the food to her. She took the cookie and glass, one in each had. "You might have to peel me off the cushions when we go to bed."

Cal gave her that amused upturn of his lip. "Deal." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Now _what_ are we going to do while we wait for Lewis to go to sleep?" She looked up at him with wide blue eyes.

"Um," Cal murmured. He glanced up towards the ceiling. "I have no idea."

Gillian gave him a slight smirk. "You'll have to take this though."

Cal took the cookie and milk back and put them behind him on the table. He leaned into her pressing his lips against hers and climbed over her body on the couch. Gillian placed her hands on his waist and Cal held himself up with his hands and toes, like he was doing a push up. But that didn't last too long, despite the fact that his muscle definition was higher than it had been since he was a skinny young man in his early twenties.

"Wait," Gillian told him as he lowered his body slightly, resting against her. She shifted her hips towards the back of the couch. Cal manoeuvred so he was lying next to her but he didn't have a lot of room, not without squishing the baby again. He rolled off the edge of the couch and dropped to the floor. Gillian's face appeared over the edge. "Are you all right?" she almost laughed. Cal gave a groan. "We need a bigger couch."

"Or a smalla baby."

A hand came down to smack his stomach. Gillian's face disappeared. Her hand reached over for the cookie instead. Cal sat himself up and found her watching him as she chewed. Cal offered the milk and she washed the chocolate chips down by sucking on the straw. Cal watched fascinated. "Stop it," she laughed.

"That was very suggestive," Cal told her. He took the half-full glass from her fingers and turned so he was on his knees, leaning in to kiss her. "Mm you taste like milk."

Gillian gave another light laugh and brought a hand to his ear, pulling him closer to kiss him again. Soft, warm kisses. She winced suddenly and pulled away. "What?" Cal queried concerned.

Gillian rubbed her stomach. "Contraction."

"A warm up one? Or a for real one?"

"Warm up I think," Gillian mused. She met his eye. "But it was sharp."

Cal waited. "Should I be concerned?"

"I don't think so."

There was a pause.

"Wanna go back to makin' out?"

"Yes please," Gillian held out an arm to him. Cal leaned within her embrace, still on the floor and kissed her again. They started out slow again, gently and carefully and then tongues caressed softly and the kisses merged into full exploration. Gillian's fingers rubbed Cal's ear and he trailed his hand up and down the curve of her waist; she was lying on her side now. Cal finally caved and gave a slight moan, shifting his hand to grip the back of her head. He smoothed his fingers through her hair. Gillian kissed him a little faster, a little harder. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and Cal gripped her tighter. He felt blood start to pound south and wondered how far they were really going to take this. Lewis wasn't asleep yet. He probably wasn't even close. And they were completely exposed in the lounge.

"Mum?"

Gillian pulled away fast, pushing at Cal's head at the same time. Cal turned his face away from her fingers in his eye to find Lewis standing at the foot of the couch, looking coy, slightly red cheeked, his hair mussed, his eyes squinting against the light. He looked like he had been asleep. He looked like he knew full well that he shouldn't be downstairs right now. Cal checked his wrist for the time; still no watch. He forgot to get one when he had taken Lewis shopping; his first foray to a mall in... well he couldn't remember when and he had forgotten the one thing he really wanted or needed.

"Lewis," Cal cleared his throat and got to his feet. "It's not time to get up yet."

"I heard something." He pointed just slightly in front of his ear, almost on his temple; twice.

"You didn't hear anything," Cal assured him, shaking his head 'no'. Close to sleep then. He gripped his son by the shoulder and turned him towards the door again.

"What you doing?" He signed 'what do?' by making 'G' hands and pinching the fingers together twice.

"Kissin' Mum." Cal brought his fingers to his lips and moved them to his cheek even though Lewis wasn't looking at him.

"You should go to bed so Santa can come." 'Santa' was a 'claw' type hand against the chin, brought down in an arc to rest the pinky finger against the chest.

"Yeah," Cal agreed. "I'll definitely be takin' Mum to bed soon."

"Santa won't come if you're awake," Lewis whined. 'Awake' was the fingers up by the eyes, flicking open like eyelids and a very 'aware' kind of facial expression.

"He won't come if _you're_ awake," Cal corrected, repeating the sign himself but pointing at Lewis this time. He directed Lewis up the stairs and into bed. He pulled up the covers, gave him a kiss and left again. When he got downstairs once more, Gillian had finished her milk and she was still on her side, her head on the edge of the pillow, her butt against the back of the couch. Cal knelt on the cushion, resting his left hand on the back upright, his other near Gillian's face. She turned to him and he leaned down to kiss her. "Where were we?" He murmured before kissing her again, pressing his mouth against hers.

Gillian brought a hand to his ear. "He looked like he was asleep."

"Maybe he was," Cal responded. He hovered mere inches from her face, noted the dilation of her pupils, the distinct softness of her expression. His stomach clenched. "That's my favourite expression. Right there," he murmured.

"Which one?" Gillian asked, smoothing her fingers into the soft hair at the back of his head.

"That one there. The one that says you're so in love with me."

"Nah it's just lust," Gillian teased. Cal gave her a slight grin. Their smiles faded as they watched each other. Gillian's fingers didn't let up in his hair. Cal's arms started to ache with holding his body weight up. "Sorry to break this beautiful moment," Gillian started. "But I really need the bathroom."

Cal chuckled and moved. He helped her sit up again. As she waddled out of the room he went to the pantry and reached up for the highest shelf where they had stashed an assortment of Christmas treats. Candy canes for the tree and chocolate Santa's that he was going to sit and tape little pieces of twine to so he could hang them too. His mother used to do the same when he was a kid and he had done it every year Emily had been a little enough girl to think it was magic, finding an assortment of edible treats appear over night on the branches. Just like it was a shock to come in and find the extra surprise presents from Santa, the ones that could not be speculated over for weeks.

Cal got the twine from the utility drawer and the tape from off the breakfast bar and set himself down on the couch to make a start. Gillian came back and took her place. Cal handed her the chocolate. "Don't eat them," he warned. He could feel Gillian narrow her eyes at him in his peripheral vision. He passed her over the next twine and tape ensemble and she stuck it to the back of a Santa and set it aside. They worked until the two packs were complete and then Cal got up to place them on the tree. He returned for the candy canes and stood back to admire his work. Lewis had helped decorate the tree, as he did every year and so it could be considered a mess but satisfied perfection in the eye of a four-year-old; and his parents.

"Lovely," Gillian noted from her perch.

"Gonna check on the munchkin," Cal informed her. He headed upstairs quietly, pushed open Lewis's door very slowly and as the light spilled over the boy's face Cal could see he was asleep. Thoroughly asleep; he didn't stir. Cal pulled his door closed again, turned off the hall light as he went by and went into the master bedroom. He put on a lamp on the bedside table and headed out again. He went straight for the garage and brought in Lewis's Christmas present. It was a bike and it had been hidden right in the corner with a tarp thrown over the top and other assorted items piled around it.

"He's asleep then," Gillian noted as Cal came in.

"Yeah."

"I'm impressed," she checked her watch. "He actually listened to you."

Cal felt her smirk at his back but ignored it. He set the bike down under the window to the side of the tree and went back for some 'wrapping', which was one of Lewis's sheets. He fixed it so every part of the bike was covered and it wasn't too obvious what was underneath. He asked Gillian what she thought.

"Very good," she applauded.

Cal headed towards her and flopped down on the couch, almost sitting on her feet, which she moved at the last minute, then dug her toes under his thigh. "Now what?"

"Bed I think."

"Very good," Cal mimicked. He reached out for her hand to help her to her feet again.

"Wait," Gillian stopped him. "Don't forget to eat, Santa."

"Oh right," Cal leaned forward and snagged a biscuit. He handed one to Gillian, ate the other himself and washed it down with a few gulps of milk; the last one he simply left behind. "Let's go," he got to his feet and turned back to offer her his hand.

Gillian gave him a smile and got up. "Have I mentioned you're so very cute with Lewis?"

"You might have. It's a turn on right?"

Gillian nodded seriously and then gave him one of those lazy sexy smiles that sent his heart into a frenzy. She started to walk away, holding out her hand behind her. Cal stepped forward to slip his within her grasp and she led them upstairs.


	17. Chapter 17

No snow for Christmas. New bikes, new watches, a few tentative presents for the baby, which were mostly clothes, booties and soft toys, and a hand-carved jewellery box for Gillian. Her best Christmas present was being twenty- four weeks pregnant, and firmly in the range of viable life. The baby's lungs would survive in the outside world now; if he happened to come early that was. It was a quiet day with family; David and Dana came for dinner. Lewis screamed around the house most of the morning. He woke them at five thirty, which Cal was sure was a new record for early morning. He counted in the realm of four as still being night time. But then, they had prepared for an early start. As soon as the bike had been brought in and the rest of Santa's presents were stashed, they had gone to bed, to sleep. Five thirty seemed particularly traumatic, but they had had a solid night's sleep under the belts to deal with the day. Still, Gillian had a nap and left Cal to take Lewis outside into the freezing cold to have a turn on his new bike. There were a few other neighbourhood kids out with new toys.

New Years Day they got snow. It came down in the night so when Gillian got up early in the morning to use the bathroom and she checked outside it was there. The snow that had been predicting since thanksgiving was finally all over the yard, the house, the street. It had become a little morning ritual for her; bathroom, then pry back the curtains, so she wouldn't disturb her husband, stick her nose in the gap and see. Such a pleasant surprise. Lewis would be thrilled. Gillian headed over to her former side of the bed quickly. Cal was on his side, his left arm straightened, so it extended over the mattress, his fingers dipped towards the floor. She slipped her hand into his, pushed on his shoulder gently to get him to move back a little. "Huh?" He asked confused, as she woke him by worming her way into bed in front of him. "Cold feet."

"Warm them up for me."

He gave a frown, a whine, and moved his feet further out of her way even as he put his arm around her. With the bump between them it was harder for them to get close. "It snowed," Gillian whispered.

"Hm?" Cal raised his eyebrows with his eyes still closed. "Lewis will be thrilled."

"Yeah. You'll have to take him out to play."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you said you would."

"Oh yeah. Damnit." Cal ran his hand absently over her back.

"Happy New Year by the way."

Cal cracked his grey eyes open; his expression softened. They were too tired to stay up and see in the New Year. "Same to you."

Gillian shifted to give him a kiss; mouth, then cheek, nose and ear. He gave a chuckle as she pried herself out of his embrace again. "Where are you goin'?"

"To wake up Lewis."

"Are you sure you wanna do that?"

Gillian stood and threw the covers back to him. "It's snow! It's exciting!"

Cal grumped something she didn't catch as she headed out of the room. Lewis was strewn over his bed, arms wide, covers a tangled mess. His pillow was mashed into the corner against the wall. The kid must really dream. The baby, now much more squished up as he got bigger, attempted a flurry of kicks. Gillian soothed her abdomen absently as she picked her way through the toys. She went to Lewis's wardrobe and found a thick jersey and waterproof pants to protect his pyjamas. Then she went to wake her son gently.

"Lewis," she spoke in a normal voice, despite instinctively wanting to be soothing and gentle. "Guess what honey? It snowed!" She raised her hands to the level of her face and brought them down again, wiggling her fingers slightly, mimicking snow. The sign for rain was similar, but faster and the fingers didn't move.

"Snow?" Lewis asked sleepily closing his eyes again and turning his head. He woke up like his father. Slowly, almost suspiciously. He cracked just one eye at her again; the other was mashed into the mattress.

"Yeah it's snowing."

Lewis sat up. "Snow," he repeated. "Can we go the snow?"

"Yeah," Gillian agreed. She got up and threw the jersey at him to put on. He pulled it over his head and threaded his arms through, gripping the ends of his pyjama top in each hand so it wouldn't ride up as he donned the clothing. Cal had taught him that. Gillian liked the idea so much she did it too now. Once he had finished with the top half, Gillian directed him into the water-proof pants. She wasn't sure they'd fit anymore. Lewis struggled with them a bit. He complained his pyjamas were getting messed up so she made him lie back on the bed and raise his feet in the air so she could fix it. There was no way she could bend down. She tickled his feet once she had finished and Lewis laughed, kicking out at her. She back-stepped the baby out of his way. "Let's go," she suggested, ignoring his hearing aids for now. They could potentially get wet in the snow even if they were water resistant. She would rather not risk it.

Lewis raced downstairs under instruction to put his rain boots on while Gillian threw open the master bedroom door and yelled at Cal to join them. He groaned and threw a pillow. It landed just over the other side of the bed. She threatened to set Lewis on him if he didn't get up. Cal gave another loud groan of displeasure.

Downstairs, Gillian found herself a long warm coat, which didn't exactly do up at the from over the bump anymore, but would keep her partially warm, and her waterproof rubber shoes. Lewis was pulling his boots on, making incredibly amusing straining noises while in the process too. Gillian picked out a rain coat for him, a beanie and gloves.

"So much stuff," Lewis noted as she helped him put all of it on.

"It's cold outside," she told him, using her arms to imitated shivering.

"Why are we goin' out again?" Cal asked, coming down the stairs, dressed in pyjama pants and a shirt. He was picking sleep out of his eye and his hair was messed in that sexy 'I seriously just woke up right now' way that made Gillian want him desperately.

"It's snow!" Lewis announced, jumping up and down on the spot in front of his father.

Gillian wrapped a scarf around her husband's neck and tugged him closer. She pressed a kiss against his lips. "Make sure you wrap up warm. I'm not having sex with you if you're an icicle. If you get sick, you're no good to me."

Cal's face morphed into surprise and he stood still, staring at her for a moment.

Gillian turned to the practically vibrating Lewis. "Let's go," she signed to him, pointing to the sliding doors in the informal living room. Lewis raced off. "Don't run!" Gillian started, then gave a shrug. She turned back to Cal. "Coat, hat, boots," she pointed a finger to show she was serious. He batted her finger away gently. Gillian followed Lewis outside.

The air was freezing and sharp when it hit Gillian's lungs; she gasped the first breath. The snow must have recently fallen and the atmosphere was getting cold again, despite the sun making its way into the sky. Lewis was at the edge of the snow, where the extended eaves ended and the several inches of snow was piled up. He was crouched, reaching out with his gloved hands to grab fingers-full. Gillian pulled the sliding door closed behind her and Lewis turned his head to see her. "It's cold Mum!" Lewis tucked his elbows against his body and shivered a little.

"That's because it's frozen," Gillian responded. 'Frozen' was her hands palm down and fingers spread, then curling the fingers up slightly into 'claws'.

"Frozen," Lewis repeated, mimicking the sign.

Wow it was cold! And the sky still held clouds that threatened. They might get another dumping before the New Year's Day was out. The door behind her slid open again so Gillian stepped to the side to let Cal get out. He was in a dark coat, what he called 'wellington's' on his feet, a beanie on his head. The snow reflected in his eyes making them seem clearer.

He blinked in shock as he took his first breath. Then he shivered and tucked his chin into his upturned collar. "Bloody hell! It's a cold one."

"Yeah," Gillian agreed.

Cal stepped towards her, slipping his arms inside her coat to rest his hands in the small of her back. "Keep me warm," he bemoaned. He pressed against her baby bump gently.

Gillian placed her hands over his arms, wishing she had thought to get gloves for herself as well. She felt a contraction, a simple squeezing of her uterus that made her shiver. Cal's eyes slid to hers and she dismissed him with the very slightest shake of her head, telling him not to worry, it wasn't a big deal. How he even knew the shiver was something else and not merely a reaction to the cold, she didn't know. "Happy New Year Gill," Cal leaned in close to her, to press his forehead against hers. The wool of the beanie on his head scratched against her skin. "Anotha year."

"Mm," Gillian agreed, closing her eyes. He was too close to see anyway. She shifted her fingers to push up his sleeves a little, seeking out the warmth. He smelt good too. Like sleep and like him... safe and sexy at the same time. Like coming home. Like knowing everything was just fine. Another year all right. She wondered what the year would bring. A new son in April. Lewis would start school several months after that, if they ever even picked one she and Cal both agreed on. What would she be doing then? What would Cal be doing?

Cal pressed his cold lips against hers. "At least this year we'll know where we stand." He paused. "When the little one comes," he clarified and slid a hand around to her front to smooth over her stomach.

How the hell did he know what she was even thinking! She knew what he meant though: a new baby was going to take up all of their time.

"Yeah," Gillian agreed. It was so nice with him standing as close as he could get. His warmth soothed her a little and she forgot for a second that they had come out here with their four and a half year old who had gotten suspiciously quiet. She turned her head to find Lewis taking tentative steps across the lawn. "Will everything be ok this year Cal?"

"I hope so luv."

No promises then. She suppressed a sigh. "Me too."

**PJ**

It snowed for almost a week straight. They spent their time inside, together, as a family, with Lewis occasionally insisting on going out until he remembered how horrendously cold it was and came rushing back inside for hot chocolate and baths. Cal went with him once to build a snowman and they had the inevitable snowball fight and came back with blue lips and numb fingers, allowing Gillian the delight of fussing and making them pink again. It was magical though, the way the world transformed. The snow was so quiet the way it came down, not like rain at all, that announced its arrival by blasting a fanfare on the roof. It was fun to see it catch Lewis by surprise when he glanced out the window. He pointed out the new dustings excitedly. Gillian could tell when it was about to begin because the temperate changed minuscully. It would get just slightly warmer when the snow started and as soon as it stopped, the air would get cold again. But at least the wind held off, not making the winter wonderland bitter.

Cal went back to work a few days after the New Year. He and Lewis dug out the driveway and the front path. A plow went by to clear the street, creating huge drifts that Gillian refused to let Lewis play in; the snow was black and dirty. Cal ventured out, texting her from the office to say he had gotten there safe, not hit ice and driven off the road, but that they were missing a few of their staff who were stranded. So they had a quiet week. Gillian stayed with Lewis until she was forced to keep a doctor's appointment and it was funny to see the shoe on the other foot, Cal worrying about her driving and insisting she let him know that she had arrived safe and sound.

Gillian was just a week away from the third trimester. At twenty-six weeks she was given a test for gestational diabetes, having to take a dose of glucose, followed up by a blood test. It was a test usually reserved until there were indicative symptoms, but as Johansson kept pointing out, Gillian was high risk; he tested her for everything. Lewis was fascinated and wanted to try some. He screwed up his nose though; it tasted very funny. He also wanted the doctor to weigh him and take his blood pressure. Those little stick things were fascinating. Funny how Lewis loathed his own doctor appointments and yet Gillian's was so interesting.

Johansson took Gillian's fundal height; whereabouts the top of her uterus was located now that it was shifting further and further upwards as the baby got bigger and bigger. Lewis wanted to feel where the baby was too. He clearly had cabin fever. So Gillian took him to the library where Cal had his lessons with Kent and a children's reading session happened to be under way. He ran to join the group listening attentively on the carpet. Gillian struck up conversation with another mother, who gave her information about other activities the library put on during the holidays. There were several aimed at younger children and Gillian planned to go back; particularly if the day care was going to remain closed during the blasts of snow.


	18. Chapter 18

"I should have gone to the bathroom," Gillian complained.

"Well go now."

"I can't," Gillian shot back.

They were waiting for Doctor Johansson to return and set up the sonogram machine. He did Gillian's scans himself now. Well he had been since the second trimester. He was almost more paranoid than Gillian in making sure everything was fine. She was weighed every visit, she had a urine test every visit, and that was completely normal, but Johansson took just a little bit of extra time and care to make sure.

Cal thought about a snide comment in return, thought better of it. He wanted to reach for his wife's hand but when she was cranky she didn't like him touching her. Sometimes he pushed his luck and he did have bruises to show for it. Most of the time he waited for her invitation and she wasn't so stingy with them. He just wanted to be all over her every minute of the day and that was too much. He had to give her room to breathe. He had to give her enough space for her to want him. Just because she had the baby didn't mean he had rights to her body... as much as he wished that wasn't true and he had complete access.

Gillian gave an uncomfortable wince and smoothed her hand over her belly. "Oi you," she murmured. "Calm down. We're going to see you in a minute." The baby pushed back against her fingers, telling her he knew she was there. Gillian rubbed her fingers back and forth and the kicks died down, but the terrible itching of her stretched skin flared up and she winced again.

"Kidney shot?" Cal asked from his spectator's chair.

"No. Itchy," she admitted. Cal bit his tongue from offering to rub moisturiser into her skin. He was already on nightly back rub duty, now that her ligaments were softening and shifting to prepare for birth. Gillian turned to him with a slight pout. "You could rub cream in when we get home?"

"Absolutely luv," Cal readily agreed.

Gillian reached out for his hand and he gripped it. "I'm cranky aren't I?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it luv," he offered. "You're goin' through hell."

"Hell seems a bit strong."

"Wait until you have to squeeze the baby outta there again."

Gillian gave a slight groan. "Thanks for bringing that up!" However, it wasn't just the idea of going through labour again, but the residual fear of Lewis's birth on their minds. For Cal, it was recent again; for Gillian, Cal had made it recent. The diabetes test had been clear. Her blood pressure was normal. The baby moved around enough in its cramped confines for her not to worry and it was about to reach the marker where all its major internal organs were fully functional. It went a long way to easing her mind.

Johansson entered again. "Sorry about the wait." He had with him different Doppler device so they could hear the baby's heartbeat. The previous one was not working, for whatever reason. The doctor sat down by the sonogram machine and attached the new device. When he had it all up and running he turned to Gillian. She lifted her shirt in preparation and he squirted gel onto her skin before using the wand of the sonogram machine to spread it out. He pushed down firmly and Gillian winced very slightly, enough for Cal to notice, and he figured she was trying so very hard not to pee herself right now. He gave her hand a squeeze and she double pumped in return. On the screen, their baby became visible.

"All right," Johansson muttered to himself. "There he is." He seemed to calculate something in his head because he was quiet for a moment before announcing the baby looked fine, like he wasn't in any particular stress. He asked Gillian about movement and she confirmed there was plenty enough. Johansson removed the wand to make a note on Gillian's chart. "The baby hasn't dropped," he told them, which was a good sign for quelling those pre-term labour nerves. The baby shifting down into the pelvis meant it was getting ready for birth.

Cal felt the almost imperceptible change in tension of Gillian's fingers; she relaxed. From there the scan was thoroughly enjoyable. They heard the steady thrum of the baby's heart beat, saw him waving his arms and turning around to face where the wand was. He hiccupped and expelled amniotic fluid and all of that was visible through the monitor. Stupid, warm, gooey feelings? Yes. Most definitely. Cal felt the itchy urge to hold the baby in his arms. Gillian had been hogging him long enough.

Cal drove Gillian home afterwards. He followed her upstairs to their bedroom. She settled on the bed carefully. The baby felt like it was a sleep, he was still, but there was a real danger of jostling him and startling him awake.

"Are you gonna have a nap?"

"Yeah and then get Lewis," Gillian affirmed, shifting her toes under the blanket Cal pulled up for her. He draped it over her hips only.

"Offa still stands," he suggested.

"Yes definitely," Gillian agreed. She had been scratching since the gel had been wiped away. Cal headed for her dresser to get the moisturiser while she moved slightly, so she was mostly on her side, a little on her back, so Cal could get around the entire expanse of her belly. She lifted her shirt while Cal spread moisturiser over his entire palms, edging forward over the mattress on his knees to get close enough. When he placed his hands on her skin the cream had warmed up a little. Sometimes he could be so cute. Other times it was annoying as hell, but Gillian was able to recognise the need in him to do something for her. She could afford to be less grumpy. When she tried. It helped kill the background tension between them.

"You know I was thinking," Gillian started as Cal made sure to spread the lotion all over her skin. The pressure of his hands felt good. And he just wanted to touch. To be involved.

"Yeah?"

"I do like the name Michael."

Cal's eyes slid to hers. "Has enough time gone by for Michael to no longa sound like Mitchell?"

"What do you think?"

"I think he doesn't mean much to me anymore." And the lack of memories totally helped with that. There were still pieces missing, holes in the blanket of remembering. Cal used a little more pressure; considering she had just been to the bathroom he could afford to.

"Mitchell?"

"Well I'm not talkin' about the baby," he gave her a slight grin.

Gillian smiled in reaction. "That really does feel good," she told him sincerely.

"Good," Cal responded softly.

Gillian reached out to catch his wrist. He looked up at her again. "I don't mean to be so grumpy."

"I know," he told her with a positive tone, to show her he wasn't bothered but Gillian knew him and he was like Lewis, he got just that little bit quieter when he was hurt. However, Gillian didn't let go and he stopped moving, sat back a little and looked her in the eye again. "Gill, come on. We've had this convasation. What you're goin' through, it warrants a few grumpy days and snarky comments. It's not a big deal."

"But I still feel bad for doing it."

"Well don't," Cal told her sincerely. "If I had to grow a baby inside me I'd be a grumpy bastard. Probably far less restrained than you are." He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "All right?"

"I know it hurts you."

He gave a lopsided grin. "Only cos, you know me, I want to be involved in everythin'."

Gillian gave a slight smile. That _was_ true.

"We're good all right? At least from my end," Cal went on.

"My end too," Gillian nodded.

"Good," Cal affirmed. "Now I'm gonna feel you up a little, and then I gotta head back to work."

**PJ**

She wasn't even leaving him there and yet it felt like it was his first day or something. Gillian was nervous. She had already been to the bathroom a gazillion times that morning. Lewis didn't seem bothered at all. Gillian supposed she shouldn't either. It wasn't his first day. It was just a visit. An informal play session with other applicants for the private school so the teachers and Director could see how Lewis interacted with other children, see how his mind worked, and probably in his case, see how well he dealt with his hearing issues. The kids at the day care had picked up a few of the basic signs. So had his teachers. But here, it was practically a clean slate. And while Lewis might not think he was much different from the other kids because he had hearing aids, Gillian was very aware of it all of a sudden.

Cal's fault. His argument had been that Lewis should be in private school because of his hearing. He also argued about wanting the best for their kid, especially if they could afford it, which they could, but mostly, the argument that had won it over for Gillian was the boy's hearing. He wasn't behind, and he didn't struggle with anything but hearing and his speech. He could enunciate very well when he was focussed but when he was excited... his words tended to run together. And if he came across a word he didn't know he didn't always reproduce the sound correctly. Not that it stopped him from trying. Not at all. It didn't stop him from attempting to communicate. Gillian had never seen him give people outside of family the silent treatment.

Cal would tell her off for over thinking this. He had given Lewis a big hug and kiss before he had left in the morning. The boy had looked a little bewildered but also pleased. Gillian wanted to tell the observing teachers how sweet he was. Lewis that was. He was sweet and thoughtful, incredibly attentive and quick to learn. He was caring to others, intrigued by how things were made and how they worked. His inquisitive mind found the world fascinating. They would see that right? Even during this short session?

Cal and Gillian had already gone for their parent's interview and a tour of the school. Concord Hill was from pre-primary, three year olds, through to the third grade, nine year olds. The classrooms were small, the kids seemed friendly enough; the school was modern, tidy and vibrant with children's art. The Director was wonderful and Gillian had fallen in love with the place a little as they had talked and walked. They were happy to accommodate Lewis's special needs and would make sure his hearing would not hinder his learning. That is, if he got in. Which was what the play session was all about. He had to show them he was worth having on their roll. Private schools, so many hoops, so stressful... This was Cal's fault.

The play session was just for the morning and Gillian had gone in with Lewis to introduce him to the teacher, then let him run off and play. He wasn't shy, bless him, and he had wormed himself into the group of children playing with the blocks. When Gillian came back to pick him up, after wandering aimlessly around the first mall she came across, merely killing time, Lewis had built a trademark tower and was showing the teacher how he had interlaced the blocks to make it structurally sound. Well, he didn't use those words. He told her it was to make it 'much stronger and no break apart'. Cal had taught him that technique with the Lego at home. Then Lewis counted all the different towers in the group up to five, which was his limit, before trailing off slightly and deciding on 'many more'. All he had to do now was write his name on the constructions and he had probably nailed it. So long as the other children also weren't able to count and make towers that reached their shoulders without falling over. Gillian was so proud she found herself with tears. Stupid hormones. Lovely boy.

She snapped a picture of Lewis talking to the teacher earnestly, sent it to Cal and added: **YOUR SON.**


	19. Chapter 19

_AN: Happy ffnet anniversary Nonnie_

**PJ**

Gillian's face did not look ready for bed when she re-emerged from the bathroom and Cal was instantly on alert. He was fine tuned to react to her. "You all right?" He asked cautiously because he was also hyper aware that she was prone to biting his head off at the moment. Gillian perched on the edge of the bed and rubbed her stomach. She seemed anxious. "I have a confession."

"Go on then," Cal turned on to his side, tilting his head at an angle to see her properly. He waited. Whatever it was, he would patient and he wouldn't be mad.

"I've been having contractions. All day."

Cal watched her impassively for a beat. "What kind of contractions?" But his voice gave him away. "Practice ones?" Like the other ones.

"Well I don't know because they haven't stopped and normally I might get one or two a day, if that, but these..."

"They're gettin' stronga? Close-a togetha?"

She shook her head but she still looked worried. "No, neither. That's why I'm not sure."

"More than four in an hour?" Which was another criteria for 'real' labour as opposed to Braxton Hicks contractions.

"No," she admitted. "I'm probably being silly."

"You want me to call the docta?"

"Would you?" The relief was evident.

Cal reached for the bedside table and his phone. He scrolled through the contacts for Johansson's number and connected the call. Gillian got up to change into her pyjamas. "Yeah Cal Lightman here," he identified himself. He explained that Gillian had been having contractions all day, that they weren't getting closer together and that she had no experience more than four in any one hour; but she was a little concerned.

"Ok. Have her water's broken?"

Cal relayed the questions across the room. Gillian shook her head. Cal told the doctor the answer.

"Has she had a bloody show?"

Same deal, Cal asked Gillian, she answered no, Cal told the doctor. Then he waited. '_Tell me what to do_.'

"Ok. She's not showing any classic signs of pre-term labour but I'm glad that you called if you're worried. Normally I would suggest heading up to the hospital for monitoring but I think, given the hour and the circumstances that you would be more comfortable at home. Give me a call in the morning and we'll see how things are going. I might get Gillian to come in anyway so I can just check her cervix isn't effacing. If something changes between now and then, call me immediately."

"Will do," Cal agreed and disconnected the call. Gillian approached the bed again, changed now, and sat on the edge once more. Her face said 'well?' Cal relayed to her what Johansson had told him.

She sighed, "Ok."

"Ok," Cal agreed. He ditched his phone quickly as Gillian eased herself down and around on to the mattress. He pulled the cover up to her waist and leaned over her, resting on his elbow. He waited, wondering what he should say, wondering if Gillian would go first.

"Can you put the light out?" Gillian requested softly.

"Sure can," Cal leaned over her to put out her lamp. On his way back he placed a kiss on her cheek, close to her nose; he did it blindly. Her hand came up to cup his jaw and she pulled his lips against hers.

"Good night," she offered.

"Night luv," Cal echoed, pleased. He moved to his side of the bed; Gillian turned on to her side, shifting a pillow to hug in her sleep because it supported the baby's weight. Cal closed his eyes, listened to the sound of his wife breathing. And then he was out almost as fast as the light.

**PJ**

"Cal, I need you to wake up," Gillian shook his shoulder roughly, insistently, her voice strained and weird and it was that more than anything that brought Cal out of slumber.

He startled awake, heart pounding and pried open his eyes to find her leaning on her elbow next to him; the light was on again. He noticed two things at once. There was raw fear in her eyes. And: "Is the bed wet?" He pulled back the covers slightly to reveal the dampness as he sat up, leaning on his hand to support his weight.

"My water's broke."

"Wha?" He looked over at her. Sheer panic blinded him for a second and he had a sudden urge to pinch himself awake again and throw up simultaneously. "Are you sure?" He asked in an extremely weak voice, shifting to sit up better.

"I felt a gushing."

Did she even go to sleep?

Cal sat stupidly for a moment, dazed with sleep even as adrenaline kept his nerves on end; twitchy. Fight or flight. His balls crawled up and he felt like he was choking on the air in his lungs for a second. It was too early for this. She was only thirty-two weeks. There were still eight weeks to go. Two whole months for them to prepare for this moment. Two whole months for the baby to grow and prepare for the world.

"Ok," he came to, realised she was waiting for him to act, to tell her what to do, to take control. She was scared; she was visibly shaking. She needed him to take control. "Put some dry clothes on," he started slowly, his mind processing the most immediate problems and their solutions. "I'll call the docta. We're goin' to the hospital." That made sense. That's what they should do first. And then: "I'll get Lewis and call your Mum."

Gillian stared at him, afraid. "It's too soon."

"I know," Cal immediately agreed. He leaned towards her slightly, so she couldn't look anywhere but in his eyes and he forced out his fears so all she would see was his determined resolve. "We need to go to the hospital right away. So put some dry clothes on. I'll call the docta. Then your Mum. And I'll get Lewis," he repeated gently, his voice nice and even. He didn't blink or waiver. He was convincing himself too at this point. But that was the plan and for now he was sticking to it until someone told him otherwise. Just because her waters broke didn't mean she was about to give birth right this second. In fact, she could go a whole extra week with nothing happening, although Cal knew her doctor wouldn't like that. If she didn't go into proper labour in the next two days she would be induced more than likely. That was his guess. But for now, she needed to change and they needed to go to the hospital.

Gillian nodded slowly and then gave a sudden sob. Her face crumbled and Cal was there within the second, his arm around her, his thigh resting in the damp on the mattress. He hushed her, smoothed her hair, held her gently but firmly. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Stop that," Cal told her sharply. He pulled back to see her face. "It's not your fault. It's just time is all." Because the baby would most definitely be born soon. If not tonight, maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. Soon. Oh God. "Go," he urged her gently, whipping back the covers completely to allow her to get up. "Get changed luv. We need to go."

Cal only realised the time when he picked up his phone to call the doctor back. Three-thirty in the morning. He watched Gillian moving slowly on the other side of the room. She put on her favourite comfy jeans and pulled open her drawers to select a shirt and then the doctor picked up and Cal was distracted. "It's Cal Lightman," he started. "I'm sorry to wake you but Gillian's wart-a's broke."

"Ok," the doctor sounded sleepy. "Head to the hospital. I'll meet you there."

"Thank you," Cal offered. And before he had a chance to ask more questions that he couldn't even comprehend yet, the call was disconnected. Cal climbed off the bed and slipped on his own jeans. That was when he realised Gillian was holding on to her dresser, was slightly hunched over, and rubbing her stomach. A contraction. Cal recognised them a mile off. He approached, wondered if he should touch her. He certainly shouldn't ask her if she was all right; he already knew the answer to that one. "He's gonna meet us up at the hospital," he told her instead.

Gillian nodded. Cal reached out his hand anyway, tucking his cell into his jeans pocket. He rubbed her lower back and she sighed her gratefulness. She was dressed though and Cal figured as soon as it was over they were getting the hell out of there and to the car... oh Lewis. Gillian started to straighten. She thanked him. "Hop in the car luv," Cal reminded her. "I'll get Lewis." He continued to rub her back until she walked away. She seemed small all of a sudden, the baby bump tiny.

Cal swallowed down the lump in his throat and quickly did up his jeans. He scuffed his feet into the first pair of his shoes he came across tucked slightly under the end of the bed and headed out of the room. He didn't want to leave her. He really didn't. But he couldn't very well send her to get their boy up. As he crossed the quiet and dark room of the four-and-a-half-year-old Cal was aware of how hard his heart was beating; how loud it sounded in his ears. If she was having contractions, proper ones like that one, then this was it. Probably. It felt like it, in his gut. But they wouldn't know until the doctor examined her. He better get his ass to the hospital smart quick.

"Lewis," Cal shook his sons shoulder much in the same way Gillian had just disturbed him.

Lewis blinked his eyes open. Cal pulled him to sit. "You have to get up," he told him. He grabbed the first sweater at hand and slipped that over his son's head and pushed shoes onto the boy's feet as he threaded his own arms into the sleeves slowly. Poor kid. Cal lifted the mostly asleep Lewis and carried him downstairs; glancing into the master bedroom at the end of the hall on his way by to make sure Gillian wasn't still in there. She wasn't, she was in the car, waiting for him like he had told her.

Cal put Lewis in his seat, did up the belt for him, caressed his cheek in a soothing way, telling him it was ok to go back to sleep. He still had to ring someone to take care of Lewis. Or maybe he would be better off with them. It didn't matter right now. Goal number one was done; Gillian was in dry clothes. Goal number two was simply to get to the hospital. He could deal with Lewis after he knew how to and what he was dealing with, with Gillian.

Now that felt like a solid plan.

**PJ**

Lewis was wrapped around him like a starfish and Cal held him easily while he clung on to his phone and the doctor examined Gillian's cervix to see if this really was labour or whether the baby was just screwing with them. Cal caught the doctor's expression as he pulled back and stripped off his latex gloves. Gillian had gone quiet, probably concentrating, or worrying herself stupid and her gaze was soft and unfocussed as she lay still and uncomfortable in the hospital bed.

'_Shit_,' Cal thought.

"Your cervix is effacing Gillian," Johansson, who looked half asleep himself, told her. "You're about three centimetres dilated. This is it."

Gillian turned to Cal and he dropped his phone onto the bed to take her hand with his now free one. "It's ok," he told her irrationally. It wasn't really. It was too early. But then, thirty-two weeks was the best chance for the baby. Anything earlier could mean more trouble than it already did. Of course, thirty-seven weeks, full term, would have been the ultimate... but never mind that now.

"So what I'm going to do," Johansson got up and reached for her chart the nurse was holding. "Is give you something to try and delay the labour so we can give the baby a course of steroids."

Steroids to make his lung function kick in on a heightened time table.

"Unless you object?" Johansson looked up. Gillian was clearly distracted, unfocussed, her mind wandering to a million other things; Cal knew how her brain worked, so he shook his head 'no'. They didn't object. Whatever it took to make sure the baby was all right, that Gillian was all right. "I'll need to do a few more tests to make sure everything is fine. Including an ultrasound, to make sure the baby isn't distressed. With more information we can make a better plan." Then the doctor turned the nurse to organise the drugs and the equipment. He had grilled Cal and Gillian on exactly what had happened after the first phone call and their arrival at the hospital. Lewis had either gone back to sleep or was keeping quiet. The lights were awfully bright and cast everyone in shades of disturbed sleep and stress.

Cal acknowledged the information and as the doctor left he was able to focus on his wife better. The tension in Gillian eased as the information overload did and she started to breathe easier. "What's happening now?" She looked up at Cal.

Cal perched on the seat beside the bed. He explained to her about the tests that would determine whether the baby was in distress and help the doctor's deliver him safely. Gillian nodded she understood. "Can I do somethin' for you?" Cal asked gently.

"Lewis," Gillian started. "Did you ring my Mom?"

"Not yet," Cal admitted.

"I don't want him to be around all of this."

So she didn't have to worry or so he wouldn't be aware of all the tension? "I'll call her now," Cal told his wife. He got up again, his little limpet son still holding on tightly. He must be awake with a grip like that.

It was closer to five in the morning now but Cal still woke Gillian's mother. He explained what was happening. He asked her to come and pick Lewis up and take him home. He asked her to stay at home with the boy that day until he was able to call her and let her know what was happening. He didn't want Lewis going to day care. Dana assured him she would, that it was completely fine, and that she would head up straight away. Cal thanked her and hung up. When he got back to Gillian's private room she had a foetal monitor strapped to her belly and a nurse was taking a swab to check for bacterial infections that could compromise the baby on his way out. The nurse asked Gillian how she was for pain and Gillian stoically responded she was fine. The nurse told her Johansson would be back to conduct the ultrasound.

Cal took his perch again. "If you need somethin' for the pain you should take it."

"It's not that bad," Gillian responded. "And I'd prefer being aware of everything that's happening right now." Not to mention the fact that they were going to stop the contractions soon anyway... She shifted to sit a little higher in the bed and Cal recognised her determination starting to kick in. Good. It helped him to relax just a little, knowing she was going to fight back. Who knew, nothing might come of this for days...

Cal relayed the phone conversation he'd had with her mother. He figured half an hour was enough time for her to get there and he would be out in the hallway with his cling-on, barring the door to Gillian's room. She didn't want anyone else in her face right now. What she wanted was Cal and what Cal wanted was to be there with her, whatever guilt he felt at handing off his son to someone else. They had talked about Lewis being there for the birth. Gillian had said it might be good for him, to see the baby being born; he had been there for Lily's birth after all. She had obviously changed her mind now though. That was ok. It would be easier to focus on the son they didn't quite have yet without the son they did have around.

Johansson arrived with his scanning equipment. He made short work of setting it up and dousing Gillian's belly in gel, slipping the foetal monitor a little higher out of the way. Cal sat back a little further in the seat, shifting Lewis to curl up in his lap instead. He was aware. His blue eyes searched around, then periodically closed, as if he couldn't quite decide if he was awake or asleep. Cal pointed out the baby to him, showed him how the wand was showing them what was inside Mum's tummy. Lewis seemed interested and Cal suspected they had made a fatal mistake in not bringing Lewis to one of the ultrasound appointments before all the shit hit the fan. Hindsight could be a complete and utter bitch sometimes.

"Good," Johansson spoke up. "The baby looks fine. He's turned."

"He has?" Cal was surprised. Gillian hadn't mentioned that.

The wand went lower. "And the pelvis and birth canal look clear." Johansson seemed to do a calculation in his head, then he removed the wand, gave Gillian a moist wipe to clear her stomach from the gel, and made a notation in her chart. Johansson pushed the equipment aside and told them he would be right back. "Then we'll talk about where we go from here and what you want to do."


	20. Chapter 20

_AN: M chapter._

**PJ**

This was weird. Cal getting up at the same time as her? Actually having a shower, a shave, putting on a suit, having breakfast with them, coffee and toast in the morning, making lunch and heading for the door. With them. It had been far too long. And it disturbed her how she had apparently gotten used to him not going through those everyday routines over the last three and a half months. There were a few awkward moments of sharing bathroom space, their routine just slightly outside the realm of comfortable because, for Cal, he had not done it before, and Gillian had gotten used to being alone.

Gillian felt a little nauseous but put that down to the cold still harassing her. She felt a world better than she had on the weekend but there was still that tickle in her throat and she was aware of how much her diaphragm hurt from all the contracting. Cal made Lewis's lunch and supervised the four-year-old getting his breakfast. The milk was sufficiently low enough for him to be trusted to pour it himself and Gillian watched from the bench as Cal instructed Lewis to use two hands, to be careful, to pour slowly. Gosh he was cute sometimes. Both of them.

"Oh Dad are you coming too?" Lewis asked as they all headed down the short hallway for the internal garage door.

"Yeah buddy. It's time for me to go back to work."

"Are you betta now?"

"Yes," Cal confirmed. "Much betta."

"That's real good Dad," Lewis informed him, jumping down the stairs to the garage floor, one at a time.

"It really is," Cal agreed.

Gillian closed the door behind them, the last one through. Cal helped Lewis into his car restraint, even though he didn't really need it, the help that was, and then slid into the passenger seat while Gillian let the garage door go up and turned the engine of her car over.

"Go Mum!" Lewis announced from the back. Gillian gave him a slight smile over her shoulder as she twisted to see where she was reversing. As she turned back around to face the front, now that they were out on the street, she glanced at Cal. He was sitting quietly, looking out the window...

"You ok?" Gillian asked him as she set the garage door to close again and put the car into drive.

"Uh huh," he turned towards her. He gave her a smile. He reached over and took her hand. "Thinkin' about our plan of attack."

Gillian gave a nod and focussed on the road. Good. Let him think about it. Her head was still a little muddled by her cold. Cal walked Lewis into the day care centre. As she was blowing her nose her phone rang. It was her doctor's office.

"I have you booked in for an appointment at one," the receptionist informed her. "Are you able to make that?"  
>"Uh yeah," Gillian agreed. Did she make that appointment? She didn't remember. Or did Cal? She recalled something vague about them ringing for her last week... "Did I make that appointment?" She asked.<p>

"Doctor Johansson asked me to make it on your behalf."

"It's about my blood test results?" Gillian queried warily.

"Yes."

"Should I be concerned?"

"I," the woman hesitated. Cal approached the car again. "I really can't answer that. We'll see you at one," she added pleasantly and Gillian allowed the call to be disconnected.

"Everythin' all right?" Cal asked as he settled.

"Yeah," Gillian agreed. "Just my doctor again."

"Insistent."

"Uh huh."

"Does that mean we should worry?"

"Not sure," Gillian mused. She waited for Cal to pull his seatbelt back into place before pulling out of the drop off zone. They headed further across the city to the Lightman Group building. Cal actually seemed to perk up a little as the sight of the glass structure came into view. When they pulled into a park though, he sat there for a moment without moving. "Are _you_ all right?"

"Yeah," Cal agreed softly. "Just seems like foreva you know? And everythin's gonna be different."

"No pressure," Gillian reasserted. "Just take it easy."

"Yeah I know," Cal responded with a slight teasing tone in his voice. Whenever they had been talking about work, she had stressed he take all the time he needed. He didn't have to come back now. She could cope. She _was_ coping. "I wanna be here," he gestured to the structure in front of them. "I'm ready to." He looked over at her. "Doesn't mean I'm also not just that little bit scared."

Gillian nodded as she listened. He was really taking the whole 'opening up to her' thing to an admiring level. But she didn't really have much in her arsenal to assuage him with. Memory loss and brain injuries fell outside her realm of expertise. What she understood about his memory loss was sketchy. It was a complicated subject and there were no easy fixes. Gillian reached for his hand, wanting to assure him anyway, but still not finding a way. It was the memory loss that hurt them the most. It robbed her of a part of her husband but it also robbed her husband of a part of himself. And while they were at home it wasn't that apparent, because they could shrug it off, laugh it away, or talk it through. But out here, in the real world? Those little buffers were gone.

Cal took a deep breath, seemed to steel himself a little. "All right, kiss, then let's go." He leaned towards her, his blue eyes warm again, the fear dispelling.

"I'm sick," Gillian pointed out.

"Darlin', you've been coughin' in my face for the last three days. If I was gonna get it, I would have got it by now."

Gillian scrunched up her nose at him. He leaned a little closer. "I'm brain injured, not immune suppressed," and he gave a little jerk of his head to indicate that she should get closer. So she did, pressing her lips against his briefly, closed mouth. "Pathetic," Cal complained immediately. He reached up a hand to gently tug her back into place by the smooth strands of her hair. She gave in a little, just a little this time, but pulled away again as soon as he pushed his luck. "Hmmm betta," Cal mused cautiously as if he thought she could still try some more.

Gillian gave him a disparaging expression. "Don't think I'm going to take care of you if you suddenly drop with this cold."

"Ouch," Cal rubbed his chest over his heart.

"You've already had more than your share of nursing hours out of me this marriage."

"That cut me deep," he gave her a slightly amused expression, his lip turning up in the corner. He reached for his door handle. "Let's go then."

Gillian followed him, watched how that bandied leg stride of his was back now his confidence was high once again. He didn't look back as he powered down that first corridor, past his name lit up on the wall and the portraits; no new faces. Gillian didn't even care that she had been ignored; probably not forgotten. She watched as he slowly held court, right next to the reception desk, actually taking the time to answer questions, explain a few things, go over some of the exact same information Gillian had told their employees; guess it was a little different coming from someone else's mouth. She headed for her office.

More than forty-five minutes later, Cal found her there. She gave him a smile as he came in. He gave her an exaggerated sigh, like he had been ambushed and was completely exhausted. "So how'd that go?" Gillian asked first.

Cal took a seat opposite her desk, slouching heavily to lean on his right elbow, resting his chin on his open palm. "I suck with names."

"First day back," Gillian supplied. "Give it time."

Cal waved his other hand to dismiss her comment and she realised he wasn't exactly looking for her to solve his problems or explain them or give him a boost. Sometimes he just needed to be able to tell her something. And sometimes she forgot she couldn't always fix everything, nor should she try. Cal went back to staring at her. "Did you want something else?" Gillian challenged. "Cos I actually have work to do."

Cal gave her a slight grin. "Just admirin' the view."

"That's cute. But save it for lunch." She gestured to her desk where she was signing off on paperwork. "I do actually have work."

"All right. Then I shall go find me somethin' to do," Cal launched himself suddenly out of his chair.

**PJ**

The office door clicked shut and Gillian could barely contain herself any longer. Cal got up from his desk, predatory darkness in his eyes that had her stomach quivering out of control. This was what happened when they spent most of the morning exchanging dirty text messages. Now she wanted him really badly and by that deadly look in his eye he wanted her too. Desperately. As Gillian reached him Cal slid open the door to his study and pulled her in after him, pushing her back against the wall. They shouldn't be doing this. Not at work. It was so unprofessional. They had an example to set. Gillian idly wondered if any of their employees snuck into the bathrooms to have sex during the middle of the day. Cal reached for her hips, using them to anchor himself as he slid closer. His mouth crashed down on to hers and she did nothing to shove him away and everything to bring him closer.

"We can't," she told him between desperate kisses; trying to rationalise to herself that it was just a kiss. They kissed at the office all the time. They had even made out here on a few occasions. Then there was that time they _had_ had sex. Oh god that so wasn't helping! Heat flooded through her, a combination of memory and Cal's tongue.

"I know," Cal whispered against her. His hips pressed in to hers gently and she felt he too wasn't exactly attempting to shut this down. He shifted to nipping at her throat and Gillian's fingers clawed at his back; wanting to undress him but keeping enough grip on her faculties to know that they really couldn't do this. Not here.

She shoved at his chest, pushing him away. He stumbled back, his eyes black, his hair mussed; when had she done that? His chest heaved for air and she realised her breath matched his exactly. "Wait," she warned him. She saw something in his expression, not disappointment but coiled tension desperate for a way out. "Come with me," and she pushed off from the solidity of the wall at her back and headed across the study. She didn't wait to see if Cal was following her as she headed out into the empty corridor and down towards the bathrooms. She reached the men's and stopped. Ok, she hadn't quite thought this through. What if someone was actually in there? She leaned against the wall, not too close, and gestured for Cal to go in. At least he'd had the presence of mind to comb his hair back into place. He entered, was gone less than a minute, then the door opened and he stepped out to look around and grab her roughly. His lips were on hers as they stumbled their way across the small space to a cubicle. If someone walked in right now, they would be so, so, so busted. That was actually helping with the excitement factor.

Cal turned her as they kissed roughly, biting and sucking, and backed her into the cubicle. Once he had cleared the door he swung it shut behind him and it clanged noisily. Gillian pushed him backwards hard and he hit the door on its rebound, banging it back into place again. She reached around her husband for the lock, while his hands started on the buttons of her shirt. She ground her hips against his, trying to relieve her own desperation more than anything. Cal gave a low groan, his fingers stumbling. Gillian ran her hands through his hair, squeezed his ears, never breaking from his mouth once.

Cal suddenly shoved her backwards and to the side, slamming her back against the wall. She could feel the cold pressure of the toilet roll dispenser against her right thigh. Wait, how had her skirt got that high? Oh Cal. Cal's hands. Oh god! She squirmed violently; the throbbing ache bordering on painful. Cal kissed his way down her chest, biting her right breast gently and her hips slammed into his with a force that nearly knocked her off her feet. This wasn't going to work, not with her knees like jelly. She pushed at him again but it took more effort to get him to move away this time. The expression he gave her as he panted for breath was pure lust and Gillian almost melted into a puddle in her shoes. She lowered the lid of the toilet, letting it slam into the quietness of the men's bathroom and grabbed Cal by the lapels of his jacket, moving him to stand where she wanted him. Then she undid his pants and unceremoniously pushed them down, along with his boxer-briefs.

Cal gave her a surprised expression before she shoved down on his shoulders so he would get the idea; sit. Words didn't seem to want to form in her throat but at least she was holding on to some conscious thought. Like they were in a bathroom right now, seriously about to have a hard shag. In a bathroom. At least their janitor was good and it was clean. '_Hold on to that Gillian,_' she told herself. And her husband. She stroked him firmly and he groaned as he sat, then winced.

"Ow cold!" He complained but Gillian was already making room for herself on his lap. She stroked him again, palm against the tip. "Fuck! Oh god! Fuckin'!" Cal spluttered, his body twitching violently, almost unsettling her.

"Shh," Gillian hushed him with a kiss. Cal's hand moved rapidly to do the same to her and she bit down on his lip.

"Fair's fair," Cal warned her in a growl.

Gillian directed his hand, lost for a moment; enjoying this whole scenario far too much. "Have to be quick," she panted, thinking again. Any second someone could come in; and it hurt too much to drag this out any longer.

"That is exactly what every bloke longs to hear," Cal murmured back, nipping at the base of her throat gently; he knew the rules.

Gillian slid her hands under his shirt and up, along his ribs to the soft skin at his back and those tightened muscles. "No," she huffed. "No talking." She moved from the confines to feel along the back of his shoulders. She inched forward, making her intention clear and Cal moved his hand out of the way to guide her. She was practically kneeling in his lap but it gave her the best leverage. She could feel him right there and gave a strangled little whimper, right in his ear, their chests practically touching she was so close.

Cal heaved away the last of his self control and lunged her hips towards him. He threw back his head in delight of the feel of her but he did respect her wish for silence, even if she whispered 'yes' in his ear. He considered himself lucky she was even doing this in the first place. At work. In the bathroom. Dirty text messages didn't always warrant such a reaction. Something else must have happened. Not that he was complaining. Definitely not. He pulled her hips again and had to suppress a groan. Gillian fell into his chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck to hang on. She pushed back, he pulled her close again. He could hear the way she fought to stay quiet; he could practically hear the things she wasn't saying, her mouth right by his ear.

Gillian switched to kissing him hotly and Cal wasn't sure what he should focus on. It allowed her to be in control and he wondered if she planned it that way. He shifted a hand into the small of her back, holding her in an embrace as he tried to keep his breathing even. And then the sound of the door had them both freezing suddenly. Gillian looked at him with panic in her eyes. They listened to footsteps across the tiles. They sat, tensely, waiting, their bodies throbbing and hot and impatient. Gillian clenched her muscles down around him and he had to bite his own lip to stay quiet. Gillian lowered her mouth to kiss him softly; she caressed him, soothed him, calmed him down. That was cruel.

Cal pushed his hips up and her eyes closed, fluttering slightly. Her fingers tightened against his shoulder and just as it seemed she had recovered from that sudden stab of pleasure he did it again. Her whole body tensed this time and she let out a tiny little desperate 'oh', barely a whisper. Then she looked horrified with herself and they both waited to see if the person who had come in to use the urinal, who was in the process of washing his hands, was going to say anything, was going to catch them out. If he looked under the door of the cubicle all he'd see would be Cal's pants down around his ankles. Oooh Gillian was a smart woman. They would simply think it was Cal, or some other male worker, sitting on the john.

The sound of the hand dryer allowed them a few low groans. Gillian bit his ear firmly as she bucked her hips against his. The death grip on his shoulder eased, she smoothed her fingers through his hair. She contracted her muscles again and smothered his response with the heat of her mouth. They were in the middle of some serious making out when the buzz of the hand dryer stopped and they suddenly froze again, mid kiss. Gillian smoothed her tongue gently over Cal's as she withdrew. The bang of the door had Cal gripping her hard again to slam against her.

"Oh!" Slipped out of her mouth in surprise.

"Enough," Cal told her. Fucking enough before he died! Seriously! This was one of the hottest moments of his life. He wasn't even sure of his ability to make her orgasm before he did right now.

"Cal," she whispered in his ear and in desperation he moved his hand again. She didn't shut him down, she didn't tell him off, she made room. "Do it," she urged softly but with her voice so full of desperation. "Do it."

He did, both of their bodies still working towards that goal and the relief of making sure she was taken care of heightened his release; it helped that they were almost simultaneous. Gillian dropped her head to his shoulder as she shivered in pleasure and Cal held her gently, waiting for her to finish, loving the way she felt in his arms, all hunched up in his lap, almost fragile. When she gave one last easing breath he spoke. "What happened?" He murmured carefully, making sure his voice was a quiet as he could make it.

"Shh," she responded softly with a slight laugh. She pressed her face against his neck, kissing him, hugging him tightly. They still had to get out of there without being busted. And she was going to need a minute before she could trust her legs again.

'_You got me pregnant_. _That's what happened_.'


	21. Chapter 21

If Gillian was thirty-four weeks she would have been sent home to 'wait and see' about what happened next with her labour. But because she was only thirty-two, the baby needed monitoring and it needed it's lungs to have steroid treatment to help kick start their function once he was born. Because he _was_ going to be born. Gillian's cervix was effacing, the baby had turned, he had settled into her pelvis, her waters had broken. This was it. There was no doubt. Doctor Johansson didn't want to put Gillian on bed rest for the next two weeks. Now it was merely a matter of time. Of waiting and seeing. Gillian hated to wait. Especially if there was no definitive end in sight.

The steroids were to be given in two shots, twelve hours apart. Gillian was given the first straight away, along with a drug to try and slow her labour down. The medication wasn't an exact science of actually preventing contractions for more than forty-eight hours and labour would proceed if it was meant to anyway. That was the nature of those kinds of drugs. They would not stop labour, but they might be able to stall it for a few days at a time. Cal wondered at the necessity of pointless chemicals but Gillian was worried about the baby enough to agree to the treatment. Anything that would give him a chance in the real world before his time. And who was Cal to intervene under these circumstances? They were just trying to buy enough time for the course of steroids, not those two extra weeks. So that was what they were waiting for and that was why she agreed to the preventative medication. They were waiting for the hours to trickle by so she could get the second dose the following afternoon and then after that, when the anti-labour meds were ceased, if her labour suddenly kicked in with force again, it would be ok. As ok as it could be anyway, given the

circumstances.

Dana arrived to take Lewis. She wanted to see Gillian. But Cal told her her daughter was sleeping, which he hoped was actually true, and refused to let her in the room. Gillian was stressed out and she needed peace and quiet; she needed to gather herself again. Cal had taken Lewis to sit in the corridor and explain what was happening, why they had taken a sudden trip in the middle of the night to the hospital and why Grandma was going to come and get him. Dana wasn't happy about being essentially barred from seeing her own daughter but Cal was not in the mood for niceties and he simply told her how it was. She asked him to keep her informed. He said he would. He thanked her for taking Lewis home. She said it was fine. But she said it in that clipped way and Cal caught a flash of contempt in his direction that made him want to chuckle, if he was in the mood for winding up his mother-in-law, which he was not right now.

And then Cal snuck back into Gillian's room. She was on her side, facing the door, her eyes closed. She didn't look peaceful though, the opposite in fact, tense and tired. Her eyes fluttered open as he came in. She had an IV line taped to the back of her hand and the foetal monitor around her stomach; both meant she couldn't get out of bed easily and pace around. Cal supposed that was a good thing in one way; horrifically restrictive in the other. "Hey," she greeted warily.

"Hi," Cal almost whispered. He felt like he was on the edge of collapse. The fact that he had to be strong for her was holding him together right now.

"Come here," Gillian requested, extending her needled hand.

Cal approached quickly and slipped his hand into hers cautiously. "How you doin'?"

"Fine," she seemed slightly optimistic.

"Anymore contractions?"

She shook her head against the pillow and Cal could almost hear her add 'for now'. "Lewis?"

"With your Mum. She's takin' him home, to our place."

Gillian nodded.

"I talked to him about what's goin' on." Cal took a seat. "But I dunno if he'll get it."

"I love that you do that. Try and explain to him. Talk to him like he's a little adult."

Cal gave a slight smile. "How else is he gonna learn?" Gillian seemed to perk up at the distraction of conversation. So he kept talking. "At what point do you think I should start callin' people?"

"Well," Gillian turned his wrist to read his watch. "You'll have to ring the Group soon to let them know we won't be in."

"Right," Cal agreed. Good. He hadn't thought of that.

"Mom will no doubt let Matthew and Kate know," Gillian gave a shrug.

"I guess we should wait and see," Cal mimicked what Johansson had talked to them about. He had gone home on 'standby', as soon as there was a change, he would be back. Otherwise, with Gillian under cessation orders, there wasn't much else he could do. The nursing staff were monitoring mother and baby.

"I guess," Gillian agreed.

Cal watched her for a moment. She seemed a little less stressed now. Maybe her mother's arrival had made her anxious? "You should try and get some sleep," Cal prompted gently. Tomorrow it could very well be all on.

"You should too," Gillian shot back.

Cal realised he was still in his pyjamas, technically. He also realised they had forgotten the baby bag that had been packed three times and was beside their bedroom door. Of course, it had been designed for use two months from now, but still. There were comfortable pyjamas for Gillian, toothbrush and other toiletries; clothes for the baby to go home in. As it was now Gillian was in a hospital gown and they had nothing of theirs with them. Cal wondered if they would let her get changed into something familiar anyway.

"You could always go home," Gillian tried tentatively.

"Not on your life," Cal quickly retorted. "Are you kiddin' me?" He leaned forward so his chin was resting on the bed. "I'm not leavin' you."

"Nothing's happening."

"I just had a very awkward convasation with your mutha," Cal jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate exactly where said conversation had taken place. "About takin' Lewis home cos I was gonna be here with you. Don't make me show up at home and have her question me about what the hell is goin' on now."

Gillian gave a slight laugh. "Ok, ok, I'll spare you!"

"Thank you," Cal grumped.

"You know," Gillian mused. "If you wanted to hang out, you could have just said."

Cal's heart warmed slightly at her playful tone. Good. She needed that.

**PJ**

Cal made sure to call the Lightman Group and let them know, without shedding too many details, that he and Gillian were up at the hospital. He told them they probably wouldn't be more than a day but that was just a flat out lie on his part. He intended to call them again tomorrow, make up more vague 'oh gosh it's just taking so much longer than I thought it was' excuses. He didn't want them taking it upon themselves to suddenly show up either.

After that he attempted to snooze in the guest chair, but all the foreign sounds around him kept him on the edge of consciousness and he couldn't switch off properly. Every time an announcement was made outside their room. Every time a particularly raucous cart went by. Every time the nurse came in to check on Gillian and the baby. An orderly arrived with breakfast for Gillian, which she picked at until Cal threatened to force feed her. She had to keep her strength up. It was important for later. As soon as he made any mention of the baby and the job she had to do in giving birth she got more focussed and clearly shoved aside any despondency she was prone to falling in to. If that kind of guilt tactic worked, Cal was all for it. He had to head for the cafeteria to get something to eat himself. While there he made a quick phone call to Emily. He had a massive favour to ask of her. She agreed to it, without knowing what the favour was, though a little suspiciously.

"It sounds like you're using a public phone."

"I am," Cal confirmed. "Listen, Gillian's gone into labour early and in our rush out the door," he kept talking over her exclaimed 'oh my god!' "I forgot the baby bag. Can you get it for me and bring it down? I know it's out of your way." But he hated to ring Gillian's mother to ask for yet another favour. It was better to spread the load. And it would mean having to load Lewis into the car and there was a chance he might still be asleep at this hour and he'd already had a disrupted night...

"Of course Dad. Can I do anything else for you?"

"Well, actually, I wouldn't mind a change of clothes." Jeans weren't so bad, but the t-shirt he had on smelt like sleep. "And my toothbrush please."

"Yeah of course."

"And if it's not too traumatic, some undawear."

Emily laughed. "I'll close my eyes and grab whatever I come across."

"Thank you," Cal put relief into his tone.

"Sure Dad. Is everything ok though?" She sounded concerned. "How close is Gillian to delivering?"

"Um, fine, for now but uh..." he stopped. Don't go there. He explained how the medical staff suppressed Gillian's labour to give the baby a course of steroids. "Maybe tomorrow," he added. Poor tomorrow. So much pressure.

"Where's Lewis?'  
>"At home, with Gill's Mum."<p>

"Ok."

Cal waited.

"You know, I could bring him up if you wanted."

"Actually, maybe late-a this evenin' would be good. Gill will be more settled then and hopefully have got some sleep." In fact, Cal hoped she was sleeping now, every chance she got. Lots of rest. "Can I call you?"

"Yeah. I have a class to get to now but as soon as it's over."

"Yes, please, go to class first and then I'll call you about comin' up."

That bought him at least an hour of class time plus travel time, plus screwing around time. Two hours. He would be ready to deal with his children in at least two hours. Two of them, not the third. Not yet. He wasn't ready yet. He promised to call Dana and let her know the new plan so Emily wouldn't get an inquisition for trying to leave with her brother or items from the house. Not that she should anyway... but he knew Dana. She would probably want to go with them. He might have to warn Gillian and she might have to suck it up. There was only so much fobbing off of parents that was acceptable, no matter what the circumstances.

"Thanks luv, really, thank you so much."

"Dad come on, it's not a big deal. Talk to you later."

**PJ**

Gillian shifted uncomfortably where she lay, Lewis on the bed next to her, being careful because 'Mum was not very well'. Cal could easily see that she was tired; the smaller signs of her irritation were an effortless read, for him. He doubted her mother noticed them or wanted to. She was in a preachy kind of mood, telling Gillian what she should have done to prevent the labour, like that would help now, and what she should be doing to make sure the baby arrived safely, as if she didn't already know. She _had_ given birth before. Lewis, bless him, carried on in only the way he knew how, explaining to Emily all about how the foetal monitor worked and how the baby was going to come out of his mother's vagina. He was oblivious to the tension Cal could sense building in the boy's mother; she could very well lose her temper soon.

"Wow. That's really interesting Lewis," Emily told her brother, her almost standard response when he either said something embarrassing, or something she didn't understand.

Dana gave one of her slight upturns of her nose at the conversation the four- and-a-half-year-old was having with his sister, her way of saying she disapproved. Too bad. If that was what Lewis wanted to talk about then so be it. Emily had known about the birds and bees since she was very small too. And this was a far better illustration for Lewis to see. Too bad he wasn't going to be in the room when the baby actually did come out. Then he really would get the message about where babies came from. Cal wondered what Dana's problem was exactly. That Lewis knew how babies were made or the detail in which he now knew? Or about him sharing it with the room? He almost laughed. Lewis had spectacular timing.

Gillian finally looked over and caught Cal's eye. He came forward from where he had been leaning against the window. "I hate to be rude," he started with a lie. "But Gill's due for the second round of steroids so," he made a 'shove off' gesture, not afraid of being abrasive at all. He watched as Dana preened herself up affronted. When he had first met her he hadn't seen what Gillian shrunk from. But now he knew her, he saw it all the time. It was a shame they needed her to take Lewis for them.

Emily leaned down to give Gillian a brief hug. "You take care," Emily instructed softly. "And I hope everything goes ok."

Gillian gave her a tentative smile. "Thanks. Me too."

"Bye Lewis," Emily leaned down to give the boy a hug.

"Bye Emy," Lewis wrapped his much shorter arms around her. He finger-spelled 'E' and 'M' "Aw nice hugs." He pulled back and rubbed 'A' hands up and down his arms for 'hug'. Then he asked, "When I see you again?" 'See' was 'two' fingers near the eyes and moving away. He pointed at his sister and then rammed the finger tips of his right hand into the palm of his left. Both hands were flat, the fingers together, and that was 'again'.

"Soon," she told him. Making 'H' hands and rubbing the edge of her middle finger against the top of her left index finger. A bit like the sign for name but with the added motion. "Tomorrow probably." Tomorrow was almost like a 'thumbs up' gesture but starting with the thumb pointing back towards the shoulder and bringing it forward on the arc of the wrist so the thumb was pointing up towards the ceiling.

Lewis grinned at her. Emily gave Cal a long squeeze goodbye too. He rocked her back and forth roughly until she laughed slightly and gave him a shove. "Thank you darlin'," he told her. She made him promise to call her tomorrow. At the door she waved goodbye to the room. Lewis knelt on his knees and waved back enthusiastically.

Gillian reached out to straighten her son's shirt. She tugged on it to get his attention. "Do I get a hug goodbye too?"

"Are we going?" Lewis signed 'go', gesturing towards the door.

"Yes," she told him, just in case there was any confusion for anyone else in the room. "You're going," she added, just in case there was any confusion for him about who was staying. He crawled forward to hug her, reminding her they had to be careful of the wires and tubes. Gillian planted kisses on his face, where she could reach. He shifted out of her tight embrace slightly to give her cheek a smacking kiss. "Lovely," she told him. She brought her fingers to her mouth and moved them forward firmly. "Thank you. I love you Lewis." She held her hand up in the 'I', the 'L' and the 'Y' sign.

Lewis signed it the long way as he said it slowly. "I. Love. You. Mum." He grinned, pleased with himself.

"All right little man," Cal stepped in. He picked Lewis up off the bed and the boy immediately wrapped his legs around his father's waist. Dana hugged her daughter too, said something about getting some sleep to keep her strength up. Cal headed for the door with Lewis and stepped into the corridor. He put him down again. "You be good for Grandma ok?" 'Good', 'Grandma' and finger-spelled 'ok'.

Lewis nodded.

"Good boy," Cal told him. "I love you too." He signed it the long way, to emphasis the point.

"Dad, when is the baby coming out?" He signed 'here' by pointing at his feet.

"Tomorrow," Cal told him. Hopefully this would all be over tomorrow. Dana appeared and took Lewis's hand and Cal stood and watched them head down the corridor, a feeling of sadness creeping in to his bones. He waited until they reached the end of the corridor, shook it off and went back to his wife.

Gillian had moved to her side again, facing the door. She watched him come in. She held out her hand for him and Cal approached, slipping his fingers into hers. He squeezed gently, not sure what to say, realising he didn't have to say anything. Being there was enough. Sometimes words would only get in the way.

And then the nurse came in with a tray.


	22. Chapter 22

The door pushed open and Cal straightened his neck to eye who was coming in. Their room was a revolving door and he expected a nurse. Instead it was a dark haired woman in a lab coat and scrubs. She gave him a smile and a soft hello. Cal looked over at Gillian who was straightening up a little. Cal hadn't even realised he had drifted off. Gillian looked alert though, like she had not been asleep at all. The woman at the door came in further. "Hi. I'm Doctor Danielle Parker. I'm the resident neonatologist."

Cal's throat closed up a little as he stood to shake her hand. Another knock from reality. Cal introduced himself and Gillian and suggested the doctor come in and take a seat. He moved to sit on the end of Gillian's bed. Parker sat where Cal had just vacated, and opened up the file in her lap; it was obviously Gillian's. "Ok so I'm going to run over a few things with you about the baby's birth."

"Walk us through it then," Cal spoke up. "What's gonna happen with the little one?"

Parker explained how the baby would be taken straight to the neonatal intensive care unit.

Their first concern would be how well he was breathing, whether he was even breathing on his own and how well his lungs had developed. From there he may be placed on a ventilator, or assisted air, or maybe just oxygen. After that he would likely get an IV line inserted for medications, his oxygen saturation would be monitored closely, as would his heart and breathing rate.

The doctor ran through a few scenarios and what the team would do to ease the issues common with premature babies. Jaundice, anaemia, apnoea, those were the lower scale problems almost all premature babies experienced. At the other end there were brain haemorrhages, obviously far more serious. Gillian listened quietly. Cal cut in with a few follow up questions. The NICU staff would do what it took to keep the baby alive and well, with his parent's permission of course. Cal looked over at Gillian and she didn't have to say anything. He knew. At thirty-two weeks, it was unlikely the baby would be at risk for permanent problems, they were ok with resuscitation to occur, if it was needed, but within reason. They had already made this decision. If there was something very wrong, if there was the chance the baby... they had already made this decision.

They got a general idea of Neonatal Intensive Care Unit etiquette and personnel, of the rules for visiting parents or other family members. Towards the end of the meeting a social worker showed up and helped them work out when they could be in the NICU, how long they could stay, who could be there, access to showers, phones, food. They talked about contacting their insurance company, about support networks.

Parker excused herself, promising she would be on hand for the baby's birth and settling him into the intensive care unit. She would be his primary caregiver and she assured them she would do her very best for the baby. Of course. She wouldn't say anything else would she? Despite her promises Cal trusted her. He could see the honesty in her face; even with the difficult questions. She didn't hide from them. She told them everything. Which is exactly what Cal wanted from a doctor.

**PJ**

"Come and lie with me."

The request was meek but Gillian could have asked him for all the stars in the universe right now and he would have set out right away to get them. Lewis was in bed. Cal had called to say goodnight. And now Gillian was in bed, in her pyjamas, and she shifted over to give her husband space on the narrow mattress.

"I'm not sure I'm gonna fit," Cal joked as he stood from his chair. He was pretty sure his butt was leaving an impression on the cushion he had spent so much time in it already.

"Cos you're such a big guy," Gillian responded drolly while he toed off his shoes. He had a clean shirt and they had brushed their teeth. She flicked back the thin blanket in preparation. Cal climbed on to the bed, awkwardly keeping his balance on his even narrower section. He settled his hips first, then let himself down gently until he was lying next to his wife, his face mere inches from hers. She pulled the blanket up to his waist her hand resting there, and she straightened out her knees to give him more room; it also brought them closer together. "Ok?"

"I think my ass is exposed," he noted. "It might get cold."

"I'll check," Gillian pushed herself up on her elbow. She adjusted the blanket for him, gave his arse a squeeze that made him jolt against the baby. Gillian winced.

"Now that was completely self inflicted," Cal teased. He rubbed his hand softly over her belly. The baby was sleeping. They should be sleeping too but after the day they'd had, it was hard to wind down. At least Gillian had been allowed out of bed for the bathroom and basic amenities and to change. Emily had grabbed everything Cal requested. It was very strange to be doing bed time rituals in a hospital room.

Gillian still had the foetal monitor though and she was still restricted to bed despite receiving the last steroid injection five hours ago now. Johansson had been back to check on her and was happy with how her treatment was progressing. With the course of steroids complete he was happy for them to move into the 'wait and see' phase; officially this time. Which sucked for Gillian, who hated to wait, and for Cal, who hated to see Gillian miserable. She was uncomfortable stuck in bed. When Cal got to leave the room for meal breaks or phone calls she looked after him longingly, enviously.

Gillian placed her hand over Cal's and shifted it to under her right breast. Cal could feel the prods of the baby kicking. So he wasn't asleep anymore. It made Cal grin. He couldn't help it. That was his little man in there. Despite it being early, he was looking forward to meeting his son. His second son. Two boys. Who would have thought?

"Are you all right luv?" Cal glanced up at Gillian's face.

"There's less room for him to kick in there."

"I meant, aside from the waitin', how are you doin'?"

Her eyes softened in either amusement or love. "I feel fine."

"And the little voice in your head that wants to run around the room in a panic screamin' its noggin' off?"

Definitely amusement this time. Particularly when he threw out a British-ism. "Quiet," she responded with a slight smile. "For now."

"I'll take that," Cal shifted his arm to take the hand of hers that was resting on the bed between them. "For now."

"I think I might try to go to sleep."

"All right," Cal agreed starting to sit up.

"Where are you going?"

"I was gonna," Cal gestured to the room. He wasn't sure what he was going to do now. Sleeping in that chair was torture. He'd probably just lie on the floor.

"You're going to what? Go home?"

"Well," he heard the rising stress in her tone. When had he become such a voice expert? Or was it merely that he was a Gillian expert? "I was gonna sleep in the chair." Or the floor. Probably the floor.

"Nope," Gillian took his arm and tried to man handle him back to lying down. Cal let her. "Stay with me," she requested softly. "Please?"

"Course darlin'," his reaction was instantaneous. "Course I'll stay." Until she went to sleep. There was no way they could both possibly get decent rest all squished up against each other on the narrow confines of the mattress.

Gillian embraced him, pressing her face against his neck. "I just don't want to be alone."

"You're not. I'm here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Cal confirmed.

**PJ**

Gillian tensed and her grip tightened on the blanket as the contraction squeezed down the length of her uterus. The room was as dark as was possible, the hospital as quiet as it was going to get and she suspected it was some ungodly hour of the morning and that if she was lucky, she might have had about three or four hours sleep before being woken by the strength of her muscles working. It hurt. God it hurt and it was strong. It was like the drugs had worn off all of a sudden and now her womb was making up for lost time. She felt Cal stir next to her, they were so close how could he not? Bless him for not leaving. They were so close there was a chance he could feel the contraction independently through the fabric of her bed shirt. The foetal monitor made a different kind of sound in the background. And then a nurse came in, flicking on the lights, making Gillian blink as the light cut through her retinas.  
>Cal was definitely awake now. "Wha?" He started.<p>

"Contraction?" The nurse asked and Gillian nodded her confirmation.

"Breathe," Cal told her sharply and she let out the air she had been cooping up in her lungs. She sucked in another one and found the pain eased a little. The nurse was checking the monitor and Cal was checking her. He reminded her to breathe again but it didn't matter now; the contraction faded away and she could relax a little. Cal pried her fingers away from the bed clothes and held her hand while the nurse reminded them that they were monitoring her uterine activity, code for: spying on your contractions. She gave Cal a hard expression but she didn't kick him off the bed. Then she left, departing with all the lights still on. Cal continued to hold Gillian's hand, continued to hold Gillian's gaze. "You all right?" He wondered how many times he could ask before she told him to piss off.

"It was a strong one."

He nodded. "The first?"

She confirmed it and turned over his wrist to see the time. She sighed and settled again. Cal levered himself up and started to get out of bed, unlacing his fingers from her grasp. "Where are you going?"

"To get the light," Cal told her.

**PJ**

Gillian winced. Her fingers and toes curled. "Breathe," Cal muttered in the semi-darkness. Gillian forced herself to let go, to take in the next lungful of air. Cal's hand came into the small of her back. He had to sit up slightly to reach, but the firm and knowledgeable pressure of his massage was fantastic at alleviating not just the immediate pain but the anxious tension. After that it was so simple to breathe easy. Another strong contraction but it seemed to not last as long as the first one. When it was over and Gillian had relaxed against the pillow again, Cal let his hand stop working the muscles in her back but he stayed on his elbow. He pressed the light on his watch to check the time.

"How long?"

"An hour."

Ok, that was nothing to panic about either. Contractions an hour apart were far, far apart. She could deal with that. She could go back to sleep. She was going to need as much rest as she could get. Every time she did drift off something disturbed her. It would be better to try and sleep as much as she could, piece together a decent amount of hours.

"Stop thinkin'," Cal told her. "You'll ova-do it."

Gillian swatted at him lightly. "I'm talking myself back from a complete freak out."

"Oh well good work then."

"I need the bathroom."

It was a rigmarole. They both had to climb down off the bed, carefully so neither of them fell; Gillian even more of a worry than the brain injured Cal. Then he had to go and let the duty nurse know why the foetal monitor was suddenly going to go offline, while Gillian unhooked the thing and actually went to the toilet, wheeling her IV line along with her. When she got back the monitor went back on and she had to get in bed again. This time she faced the wall. Cal spooned up behind her. He could get an arm around her this way and it probably comforted him more than it did her. The restriction to her was probably annoying. But she let him and she snuggled in close against his body.

"My bloody show has started."

Cal felt a pang of nerves and kissed the back of her neck. It was going to be a long night.

**PJ**

An hour later there was another one. Forty-five minutes after that there was another one. And forty minutes after that, another and another and another on the same time delay. They were already strong but now they were getting closer together. By the time the sun was coming up Cal felt like hell. He had been woken a total of six times in the night, with no more than an hour's sleep at a time. Gillian looked slightly worse because after Cal slipped back to slumber exhausted, her anxiety kept her awake. The nursing staff came in periodically to check on them. One of them offered Cal a cot but he couldn't be bothered moving now. If he was there another night then he was definitely going to take them up on their offer though. There was no way he was going to survive another night like that one, with Gillian waking him inadvertently, and still have the presence of mind to be conscious enough during the birth to support her properly. Not that he particularly wanted to leave her to it...

It was a tricky one. He also felt like he should spend time with Lewis instead of just palming him off to someone else and yet he had promised Gillian he wouldn't leave her. He didn't want to. She was having his baby. And it was going to be a stressful birth even if everything went perfectly. So how was he going to play this? She could be in labour for days. He couldn't leave Lewis for days. And oh yeah, he needed to call the Lightman Group back as well.


	23. Chapter 23

Gillian squeezed Cal's finger until she felt like she might break it but he didn't even flinch. So she squeezed harder because she was suffering, and if she was suffering right now, then she wanted him to as well. Just a little. That would be nice. The contractions were coming in thick and fast now, were strong and long; she was officially in active labour and a sweating swearing mess. She didn't even have thoughts about wishing this wasn't happening so quickly. What she wanted now was for it to be the hell over. The contractions were less than two minutes apart and lasted half that time. She barely had time to think before the next one was there. Cal urged her to keep breathing through the pain and she glared at him hard. It did help though, the breathing, and her first reaction _was_ to tense up and hold her breath and so he really did have a point. But he was also really annoying.

Gillian had lost track of time. She had lost track of Lewis. She had lost track of the nursing staff. All she was aware of was her uterus squeezing the baby out of her. She didn't really have time to even think of the ramifications of that. What she was focussing on was just making it through the next long squeeze. As it eased off and her muscles collapsed her back against the raised bed, Cal stepped in with a cold cloth and wiped her face. If she had more energy she might have batted him away. As it was she didn't have the heart to verbally tell him to leave her alone. She had already told him to piss off. A few times. And not that politely either.

Everything ached. The Demerol they had given her earlier felt like it was wearing off. It was too late for an epidural and she felt she hadn't needed one before when it had been offered. She had felt ok then. Now she ran the risk of getting nothing at all because some pain relief medications would interfere with the baby's breathing and their timing had to be perfect and he was already a risk for lung problems.

"Gill?"

"What?" She griped. Her eyes were closed? She opened them again. Cal was standing by her, concern on his face.

"Warta?"

She wanted to tell him to fuck off. She wanted to throw something through the window. She wanted to able to lift her own arm but she was exhausted. She nodded and he retrieved a plastic cup with a straw and held it for her. Aw, he really was just trying to look after her.

Cal's face morphed into surprise, then more worry. "Hey, now, don't cry luv."

"I'm sorry," Gillian half sobbed. "I just... I don't mean to be so horrible."

The cup disappeared; he was only letting her sip at it anyway. Cal took her hand; fully this time, not just offering her a finger. He perched on the edge of his chair, leaned in close, gave her a sincere expression. "Don't worry about it all right? Just focus on the baby."

And that was her minute up. She could feel the next contraction starting. She let rip a string of expletives as the height of it burned inside her and she felt herself pushing down hard. Oh shit. She wasn't meant to do that. "Cal," she bemoaned. "I want to push."

"No," he stood. He clicked his fingers above her face, which annoyed the hell out of her, but also made her look up. "Blow on my finga's."

She did, because, still, as fucking irritating as he was with his stupid fucking fingers in her face, she knew it would help. And it did, focussing on pushing his fingers away with air dispelled the urge she felt to push the baby out. She just wished her breath was actually a baseball bat and it had some sort of impact. She wanted him to hurt like she was hurting... That was terrible! She might go back to crying.

Gillian's feet pushed down on the bed instead, her fingers gripped the bed sheet, her nails digging into the material and she breathed and bore it out and after the agony died down again she felt like she had already run the marathon and was ready to die. Too bad it was only just starting. Sure she had been woken in the night every hour or so and that had been... well she didn't know what the time was now, but the late afternoon sun coming through the window indicated it had been somewhere between seven and ten hours since they had given up on trying to sleep. Better than the several days she had been in labour with Lewis. Worse because she wasn't quite prepared for everything to be happening now so rapidly. They were supposed to have until April.

"That was a long one," Cal noted quietly. Gillian didn't answer him. Hell all felt the same to her right now. She closed her eyes again. She could hear the foetal monitor recording the increase of the baby's heartbeat in response to the uterine contractions. She could feel the body low in her pelvis. "Gill?"

"What?" She responded, but less cutting this time.

"You're doin' so well."

His tone was smooth and genuine and it made her turn her head and look over at him. He was sitting again, looking up at her, is blue eyes just that little bit wide, like he was bewildered. She forgot this was happening to him too. She reached out a hand and he took it, attempted a failing smile. "Thank you," she practically whispered, wanting to cry again.

"I'm really proud of you. I'm proud to call you my wife."

Aw dammit now she _was_ crying. His hand reached out to wipe the tear from her burning cheeks. "Hey come on. No cryin' rememba?"

"Then stop talking," she suggested lightly.

Gillian was harder to figure out this time. With Lewis she had been text book. He knew when to comfort her, to encourage her, to offer her something to drink, when to back off. This time, she was all over the show, raging emotions that swung harder than her hormones had through the months of pregnancy. She was beyond snarky, her tone cutting and bitter. He really didn't know what to do half the time. It would have been worse with no memories and easier with no brain injury in the way. At least he remembered what she had absolutely deplored him doing when she was giving birth to Lewis. Unfortunately, the fear of Lewis almost dying was back in his mind too.

"Another one," Gillian warned him and he got to his feet again, tucking his index finger within her grasp because he wasn't so lost that he couldn't see she took a little delight in hurting him, or trying to hurt him. Which was fine if it helped her; he was all right with that. No matter how hard she squeezed she wasn't really doing any damage. She scrunched up her face and cried out, pushing down on the bed to brace herself and took measured breaths. Sweat beaded along her already glistening forehead. A droplet traced its way down her temple. Cal wanted to catch it for her but he had learnt the hard way to not touch her during a contraction. At least, no more than the proffered finger.

With her eyes closed, Cal dared to check his watch. That must have only been a minute since the last one. He waited it out, taking the pressure of her hand around his digit, feeling the intensity pouring off her, rolling in waves to wash over him as the contraction kept going, her uterus kept squeezing. Cal's watch ticked around the ninety second mark and he knew she had progressed. And finally it eased off again and Gillian fell back against the bed panting, her face bright red, the sweat dampening her hair and shirt, every inch of her. Cal waited until she seemed to have relaxed a little.

"I'm gonna go get the nurse," he told her, gently extricating his finger.

"Why?" Gillian's eyes almost seemed dark as they fixed on him sharply.

"Cos I think you're in transition now."

Not that the nurse could do anything more for Gillian but confirm she was in transition, after checking the dilation of her cervix, and to let Johansson know so he could head over from his practice a few blocks away. Transition was the last phase of the first stage of labour. Gillian's cervix was finishing it's dilation to ten centimetres and once that happened, she could start pushing. In February. They were supposed to have until April.

It was officially too late for any more pain relief but, while it felt like agony, Gillian didn't feel like she wasn't coping. Sure she might be bitching, but that was merely a coping mechanism. "Cal?"

"Yeah I'm here luv," he got closer, standing once more.

"How long?"

He wasn't sure what she meant. Transition could last from thirty minutes up to two hours. He hoped to not have to answer that. When she didn't push for an answer, he almost felt relief. To be honest, he would have just lied, told her 'soon' to give her some hope. But 'how long' could have meant anything really.

**PJ**

Twenty-three minutes. That was how long.

"Ok Gillian, when you feel the next contraction start, I want you to push down nice and steadily until it ends again. Ok?"

Gillian nodded at the doctor, all serious now. She had quit yelling and swearing. She had given up on trying to make Cal pay for the pain she was in; it wasn't really his fault. Now she was all determination and finality. She had had enough. Cal could see that written all over her. She hadn't eaten or had a second to herself since six that morning but she was done with complaining now because this was the end, the home stretch, the final run, and then it would all be over with. It made him nervous. He was already thinking about what would come next. They would take the baby away immediately, as soon as the cord was cut. Gillian might not get to hold him. She might not even get to see him. Cal was already preparing himself for the worst. Because Gillian was just focussing on getting the baby out. But after that it would hit her that their baby boy had been taken away from her.

Gillian braced herself and the medical staff poised. Gillian was in stirrups, Johansson at the foot of the bed, Cal by her side; he could feel himself sweating too, he was scared. The foetal monitor continued its output. The baby's heart rate had gone up appropriately but not in a concerning way; it meant he was responding, he was getting ready to be born, but he was not in any trouble.

"Ok," Gillian murmured, seemingly to warn the room but it was actually for her. She was preparing herself. Cal could see the slow tension start to build in her as she bore down. She did it in a measured way, controlled, keeping the pressure even for the length of the contraction. Her face went redder, her fingers gripped bunches of bed sheet. And then she started to let out a guttural groan that raised in intensity as the contraction apexed. She finally cut it off and panted, easing back slightly. Cal was there with the cold cloth and he also rubbed his fingers against the back of her shoulders, just below the base of her neck, where the tension was the worst.

"Great work," Johansson told her, his attention on his job.

"Fantastic," Cal murmured. He wanted to kiss her forehead or hug her or just do something more than he was doing right now.

Gillian gave a whimper and looked to him for more support. Cal suspected she was very near the end of her energy reserves. He should have made sure she ate. She picked at lunch and the tray had been taken away before he could get back from making his update phone calls and grabbing something for himself. He was running on very little as well, food and sleep, and he didn't have to squeeze a kid out of his body. Cal wiped her cheeks, dared to take her hand and give it a squeeze while mentally counting down until the next one. Then he would back off again. "Cal," she just about mouthed, her voice weak and breathless.

"You're doin' great luv. It'll be ova soon."

Keep her positive. Keep her hopes up.

She didn't need to tell him another one was coming. He withdrew both hands and watched her body coil up to expend the energy in pushing. Another guttural cry escaped her but she kept it low this time, it also helped with pain relief, believe it or not.

"That's great Gillian," Johansson encouraged from his position. Cal did the best he could before the next one. She pushed harder and once the contraction was over Johansson told her he could see the baby crowning.

'_Really_?' Cal was surprised. It was all happening so fast. "Gillian, he's crownin'," he turned to his wife excitedly. She gave a nod, braced herself for the next contraction again. Two more massive pushes and Johansson told her to stop so he could check the baby's cord. That was agonising. Sheer, utter, horrific, tense waiting. But the all clear was sounded and Cal, almost in disbelief, had to repeat it to Gillian. "He's all right!"

She kept pushing and the baby basically slid free. His little body was blue and absolutely covered in vernix and blood. "Cal?" Gillian's hand gripped his forearm tightly, pinching and twisting the skin as she tried to see.

"Dad would you like to cut the cord?"

"Yep," Cal stepped away from his wife for a moment. He took the snips offered and cut where the doctor indicated. The baby was quiet but after Cal had concentrated on not cutting anyone else he could see the rise and fall of the baby's chest. He was breathing. He was breathing! He gave the snips back, stepped out of the way again. Gillian's hand continued its death grip on his arm.

"Did you see him?" Gillian asked tightly.

Cal nodded. "Yeah. Did you?"

Gillian shook her head. "Is he all right?'

"He's breathin'," Cal told her. He should have told her that right? Maybe he should have waited for a medical opinion. Maybe he should have lied. Maybe he should have said he didn't know.

"He is?" Gillian sounded so optimistic. Cal hoped he hadn't got it wrong. They watched as the baby was bundled away and Cal figured that was it. But then there was the sudden squawk of the baby really exercising his lungs and vocal cords for the first time and Cal's stomach leapt for joy. Gillian's death grip got tighter. "Is he ok?" She asked someone, anyone.

Doctor Johansson was focussing on his patient and Cal was focussing on Gillian and Gillian was focussing on not crying. But then someone approached with the baby in their arms, wrapped in a white blanket and asked Cal if he wanted to take the baby. He looked up to find Doctor Parker there, scrubs, no lab coat. He held out his arms immediately. The baby continued to cry. "Hey," Cal told him, glancing down, then back up at the doctor with a pleading 'thank you' in his eyes. She gave him a warm smile but warned him it would just be a minute. Cal turned his gaze back to the baby. So small! "You're all right little man," he murmured softly. He turned to Gillian immediately, passing the baby over to her, practically dumping him on her chest. Cal made sure to hold the baby's weight, but that was mostly because he didn't want to let go. He felt tears sting his eyes too. Gillian had tears on her cheeks. The baby screamed his head off and oh god, that clamour had never sounded so good before.

"Hi," Gillian cooed to the baby. "Hi. Oh you're so small!" She gave a slight sob. "Hi," she repeated softly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but I need to take him back," Parker approached a few seconds later, so she was next to Cal beside the bed.

Gillian's face fell but Cal dutifully scooped the baby up again and handed him over. He wanted to follow them out of the room but he had promised Gillian. And so suddenly they were alone again and the room went quiet and they went back to waiting.


	24. Chapter 24

Breastfeeding the baby for the first time shortly after it was born helped with the afterbirth. The hormone oxytocic was released naturally and the placenta and amniotic sac would be expelled from the uterus. But Gillian didn't get to breastfeed her son, she barely even got to hold him, so she was given a synthetic form of the drug, which made her feel like she might throw up, and they had to sit around and wait for it to kick in. Johansson busied himself with making sure Gillian wasn't bleeding too heavily and checking there weren't any complications. Cal wanted to race out the door after his son but he had promised her, _promised_, that he would not leave her. She would not be alone. He was going to stick to that. Because he didn't know what else to do; what was he going to do for the baby anyway but stand there? And it seemed important to keep his word at this point, to not upset the apple cart. So he wiped his wife's face and neck and then arms and hands, in lieu of a bath, mostly so he kept himself occupied; she didn't shove him away either.

A nurse was going to come and tell them what was happening with the baby and in the meantime, the room was quiet and tense. Everyone was aware of what was happening, what they were waiting so desperately for. Gillian turned her head towards Cal. She had been staring at the wall while he caressed over her pale skin. Her eyes were soft, thanking him, but around the edges, he could see the fear. Was the baby really ok? He dumped the cloth, took her fingers instead, double squeezed. She squeezed back, held on tightly, gave him enough of a smile that only he would see.

The waiting was making Cal feel nauseous.

And still he didn't know what to say. But he better say something. He risked that kiss, a brief press on her lips. "I'm so proud of you," he tried. Her gaze softened some more. Because despite the fact that baby had arrived prematurely, which wasn't her fault, and been whisked away before either of them got a good look or a hold, neither of their faults, she had done a fantastic job delivering the baby safely. They already knew how it could horribly wrong during that process in an instant.

Gillian raised her chin slightly and Cal leaned down to kiss her again. He smoothed damp strands of hair from her forehead, where he had mussed it up a moment ago. He caressed his fingers against her scalp to the base of her neck and she gave those infinitesimal signals that it had felt wonderful and she was grateful. He let his hand slip against the base of her neck, the start of her spine and her eyes fluttered slightly closed in delight. Her skin was clammy, warm and nervous. As the minutes ticked by she looked more fatigued. Cal hoped the afterbirth wouldn't be much longer. He hoped someone would come and tell them about the baby. Anything would be great, any little piece of information. Was he even alive?

**PJ**

This felt wrong, doing this without Gillian here. But once the afterbirth had been delivered and she had been given the all clear, and someone had _finally_ come to tell them the baby _was_ alive and actually doing well considering, Gillian had practically collapsed into an unconscious deep sleep. She wouldn't be allowed up and about for a while anyway, or probably couldn't manage it if she was. Cal wasn't sure; he had hit the wall and stopped listening. The basics were: Gillian was deep asleep and in bed, Cal was awake and not. So when someone else came to see if he wanted to see the baby now that he had been stabilised Cal just about fell out of his chair in desperation. This did _not_ count as abandoning his wife. It did _not_.

The neonatal intensive care unit was noisy and bustling and honestly, incredibly startling. But then Cal noticed most of the furore was machinery and there was _a lot_ of it. A serious amount. A severely disturbing amount. So much equipment to keep these little babies alive? Scary.

There were plastic bassinets lining each wall, about half of them home to a tiny little body, a few family members sitting to the sides. Cal got a few warm smiles but he was too shell shocked at this point to remember to be polite and return them. After he had washed his hands thoroughly just inside the door, under supervision, with some nasty smelling anti-bacterial soap, he was led down the middle of the room to the back left where a curtain was pulled around another isolette. That was where 'baby Lightman' was lying, on his back, arms and legs at wide awkward looking angles, tubes and wires bigger than he was sticking out of everywhere. Cal swallowed on a dry throat, felt his balls creep up inside him again and fought the urge to keel over and vomit.

Perhaps he should have been warned.

Seeing his boy like that... good lord it made him feel light headed and small and insignificant and so... freaking helpless.

A nurse had come to retrieve him, but a different one was waiting for him. She was Cal's height, greying hair, blue eyes, a beautiful warm smile. It felt comforting already. She stepped forward with a hand extended. "Hello. My name is Beth. I'm the charge nurse for the unit." Cal squeezed her palm, too tired for doing anything properly right now, his eyes drifting constantly back to his son; he looked a mess. The nurse's hand was warm.

"Come closer," she instructed gently, giving the nurse behind Cal a nod. "And I'll explain what we have here." He stepped further inside the encircling curtain. Up close, he could see the baby still had an alarming red tinge to his skin that wasn't close to being a delightful baby pink. It was angry crimson, like he was bruised all over. The clamp on his belly button seemed so ridiculously huge against his little torso. The nurse explained that, that there, was an oxygen saturation monitor bound to his foot, a catheter needle in his arm, the tabs on his chest were to monitor heart and breathing rate, and the contraption taped to his face was a ventilator. Cal couldn't really see around the breathing apparatus, but there was also a feeding tube down his throat.

"That's just a precaution at this point," the nurse referred to the ventilator. "Doctor Parker is hopeful he can come off it first thing tomorrow."

Good news already. That was something. The needle was bigger than the baby's arm, or more like, the plastic catheter was, and it was taped down into permanent place with gauze cushioning so it formed a massive splint the length of the baby's forearm. The oxygen monitor wound around his foot twice it was that small; his foot, not the monitor. He had a scowl on his face, like he was in complete discomfort but most of the blood and vernix from birth had been washed away. Most of it. Cal hoped he wasn't going to miss out on a first bath ritual. Him, or Gillian.

Beth went on to explain how the monitor above the isolette worked, heart rate, oxygen sats, all the numbers and waves, so Cal could keep an eye on it himself while he was there; so he could read it and understand. She ran down a list of rules. Hand washing was mandatory at the sink by the door. If he was sick he had to stay away. If he had been around someone who was sick, he was to stay away. No children. Family only. Quiet and respect was essential for the other babies in the unit. If he had any questions he was to ask the shift nurse or herself; if he was concerned at all or noticed anything that seemed unusual or alarming, he was to notify the nurse immediately. They could touch the baby gently, but no rubbing of his skin; it would over stimulate him. They had to remember he was born before he was supposed to be ready for many things, including breathing air, being touched, being fed. It was going to take time for him to learn these things ahead of a normal schedule.

Cal and Gillian could help take care of him, even in the unit, and get involved with many 'normal' activities, like diaper changes and later, feeds, but they had to do so with the medical staff's guidance. That was how it worked. Cal nodded. He understood. And he suddenly felt like even more of a useless shit. He couldn't even hold his son.

"But please, feel free to come up as often as you want to, stay as long as you want to. You can decorate his crib a little, just try and limit the visual stimulation."

Cal nodded.

"Take plenty of photos," Beth went on. "But please turn the flash off." They were quiet for a moment. Cal watched his boy, lying still, having air shoved down his throat. This is what Gillian had had to put up with him, nine months ago, when he had been comatose. And now she was going to have to do it again, with their son. Cal was going to have to warn her. "Do you have any questions?"

His mind went blank. "No I can't think of any right now."

"The nurses and myself will be here twenty-four hours a day so if you need anything at any time, just ask. Or if you'd like an update we can help you with that. We can contact Doctor Parker if you have questions about your baby's condition."

Condition? Blech.

Cal nodded. Beth the charge nurse left him and he stood starting down at his boy stunned. He felt completely shocked. All that drama around the birth and now this. Too still. The baby was too still and he didn't cry. The monitors were the only things telling Cal he was even alive. He pulled out his phone, snapped off a few photos for those who were inevitably going to ask, for those who weren't going to be allowed in to see him right away.

Cal stood still for a while longer and then the superfluous feeling had him heading for the door again. He might not be able to do jack shit for the baby but his wife on the other hand, there were plenty of things he could do for her. A little voice told him to look after himself as well, so he made a detour to a vending machine, then coffee, which he practically gulped down before pushing back into Gillian's room. He had no idea how long he had been gone but she was still asleep, curled up slightly on her side. Considering everyone had cleared out, he figured she was ok. At least in a physical, medical sense. As for mentally...

"Hey," she croaked at him, blue eyes fluttering open.

"Hi," Cal responded softly, taking his perch by the bed.

"Did you see him?"

"Yes. He's doin' just fine considerin'."

Gillian looked relieved.

"Three pounds three," Cal added. "Sixteen and a half inches." He brought out his phone to show her the pictures. She frowned and seemed just as shell-shocked as he did. He pointed out the various medical apparatuses. She zoomed in on them to get a better look. Then she gave him his phone back. And that was it. No questions, no comments. Cal waited and there was nothing. Perhaps the information needed time to sink in. He would start worrying tomorrow. He was too exhausted to get into her psyche right now.

A hand came out to his cheek. "You should go home. Get some proper sleep."

"Promised I wouldn't leave," Cal mumbled. That coffee should kick in soon. Right?

"I officially call your service to an end. You have fulfilled your duty," she gave him a kind of half smile. "It's late Cal. You look terrible. I'm just going to sleep here."

He wasn't sure where she got late from. It was actually barely late afternoon. Gillian caressed her fingers over the scratch of his beard. He forgot for a moment that they had been dragged from their beds at three-thirty-something yesterday morning and he had not been home since. He should really pick up Lewis and...

"Go," Gillian urged. "Please? And come back refreshed." She was asking him to help her. To help her deal with their son, tomorrow, when he had the presence of mind and his strength back. She was asking him to be strong enough for the both of them.

"Will you be all right?" Cal caved a little.

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm too exhausted to go anywhere right now either, so I'm just going to be here. Sleeping." She seemed sure, determined almost. She actually looked better than Cal thought. Not so washed out. A little more colour in her cheeks. The nap agreed with her.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," she told him gently.

Cal got up. But he was so coming back later that evening, as soon as he had slept and showered and changed and possibly had a decent meal if he could get through it without feeling sick; was that the stress or the vending machine? He leaned down to give Gillian a quick kiss and then shuffled towards the door. He was outside before he really realised how and it took him a minute to find his car. He sat behind the driver's wheel for a moment, staring blankly at the small bush in the garden in front of him. And then he sighed and pulled his seat belt on.

**PJ**

Lewis had gone to day care that morning. Now that his parent's knew what was happening with the baby it didn't seem like such a big deal for him to go. Plus it cut down on the babysitting and it was a little bit of normal for the boy. Besides, Cal still knew where he was if he needed him for whatever reason. Emily was going to pick the four-and-a-half year old up afterwards, bring him home and wait to hear from her father for the next stage of the plan. Cal wasn't really worrying about the plan right now though. There wasn't one. He went straight upstairs to the master bedroom. The curtains had been opened and he yanked them shut again. In the dimness he pulled the covers off the bed, ripped the fitted sheet from the mattress and then found himself exhausted. He was half asleep. He probably shouldn't have driven at all. He could have had an accident. That was stupid. Even if the coffee had kicked in a little and he felt alert at the time. Still stupid. Cal wrapped the blanket around himself and collapsed onto the mattress in a cocoon. He fell asleep exactly where he landed.


	25. Chapter 25

He slept three hours solid, without moving, and woke up in his cave to a dark bedroom. He still felt like hell, but at least conscious logical thoughts were filtering through. He needed a shower. His stomach growled; and then something to eat. When he headed downstairs, the water refreshing him in a way he didn't think was possible, Emily was in the kitchen making dinner and she startled when she saw him.

"Sorry luv," Cal realised he should have warned her he was in the house.

"I didn't expect to see you up! You gave Lewis a hell of a fright when he went up to play in his room. He walked by and saw a figure in his parent's bed. I had to assure him it was you. Then he refused to go up there at all."

Oh shit.

Cal rubbed his damp hair. "I wasn't really thinkin'."

"Wait, so if you're here, Gillian had the baby!"

"Yeah," he confirmed.

Emily's eyes got brighter and she seemed to bounce a little where she stood and Cal was reminded of Lewis. "So? Is he ok? What happened?"

Cal told her a brief outline of the story. "I want to head back up there. Take Gill a few things."

"Ok, well Ajay's coming by after work. We can stay with Lewis for as long as you need."

Cal shook his head. "I'll take Lewis with me. He hasn't seen his Mum in a while."

"Ok," Emily actually looked a little disappointed.

Cal thought quickly. "Maybe afta we eat togetha though. And you're welcome to come up if you wanna as well."

"Can I see the baby?"

"Not yet," Cal lied. Gillian should be next. It wouldn't be fair if everyone else traipsed through before she got the chance to.

"Oh ok."

"Tomorrow though," Cal assured her. "So long as you're not ill and you don't know anyone else who is." He ran through the rules briefly, stressed how important it was that she stick to them despite wanting to see her new brother, because he had no immune system and even a simple infection would take him a gazillion times longer to get over than normal. Or it could kill him.

Emily said she understood. She also said dinner was still going to be twenty minutes away so Cal went to see his other son, his big boy, who was sitting on his knees absorbed by the television. Cal crossed in front of his vision and he leaned over to see around his father. Then he seemed to click, as Cal was sitting, exactly who it was who had blocked his view for a second. "Dad!" Lewis turned to him, cartoons ignored.

"Hey buddy," Cal held out his arms as Lewis dived for a hug. Cal pulled him into his lap properly and held him tightly. He kissed is head. He was pleased to see he was wearing his hearing aids. Not too many people knew how to take them on and off. "How are you doin'?"

Lewis nodded. "Where's Mum?" Questioning expression, hand to his forehead.

"Up at the hospital still. The baby came out." It was too hard to sign with an armful of four-and-a-half year old.

"Oh!" Lewis's eyebrows went up, way up.

"But," Cal warned immediately. "It's too early for him to be here rememba?" Lewis seemed a little unsure but he nodded. "So he's still at the hospital too. Until he's big enough to come home. Do you wanna see a picture?"

Lewis nodded that yes he did and Cal pulled his phone from his pocket and showed him the images. He pointed out the tubes and wires and told Lewis what they were for. Lewis stared at the image. It was probably too much for the little guy to comprehend but Cal was loathe to exclude him. And then, after that, he suddenly didn't know what else to say to his son. He didn't really have any more information that he could share. "Come on," he shifted to the edge of the couch so he could get to his feet, Lewis still in his arms, like he had held him when he was a baby too. "Let's help Emily with dinna." He stood. "And then we'll go and see Mum."

**PJ**

Cal let Lewis walk in front of him, finally letting go of the boy's hand now that they had reached their destination and he couldn't take off suddenly and disappear in the labyrinth of the hospital corridors. He raced for the bed, where Gillian's face lit up in an instant. It was dark outside but that was deceptive. It wasn't that late, it was winter, and visiting hours weren't up yet. Cal was glad he thought to bring mother and son together again; it warmed his heart too.

"Hi Lewis!" Gillian leaned down to help him up. She winced as she bent but she was sitting up in her bed and she did look so much better and it was strange to think she had given birth just a few hours ago. The baby should have been in a bassinet by her side.

"Mum. The baby came out."

"Yeah he did," Gillian affirmed, giving him, what looked like, a good long study.

"But Dad says no see him yet." Hand against his mouth, two fingers in front of his eyes moving out, a shake of his head.

"No not yet," she agreed and her eyes slid to Cal's as he perched himself on the end of her mattress this time. "I went up to see him."

"You did?" Cal was surprised. "I wanted to go with you."

"They offered and I jumped at the chance."

"Undastandable," Cal agreed while Lewis asked her when she was coming home. He did feel a little pang of disappointment though. "Was he all right?" His hand drifted to her blanket clad ankle and rested on top of it.

She nodded, fending Lewis off who was trying to climb into her lap. "Soon Lewis. I can go home tomorrow. You have to sit there," she forcibly moved him, wincing again. "I'm sore." She signed 'hurt'.

"Aw you hurt?"

"Yes," she told him.

Cal leaned forward and pulled Lewis rapidly over the bed towards him. The boy let out a surprised yelp. Cal wrapped his arms around Lewis, holding him tightly. "Mum just had a baby rememba? You have to be gentle." He used 'careful'.

"Ok I be gentle," Lewis agreed. He crawled his way over to his mother again and offered her hugs. Gillian put her arms around him but he stayed kneeling at her hip even as he turned his head to rest on her shoulder. "Aw nice hugs."

Gillian ran her hands up and down his back gently and regarded her husband over his shoulder. "Did you sleep? You look much better."

"Yeah I slept," Cal confirmed. "Em cooked dinna. Ajay came ova afta work." Gillian gave a faint smile. It seemed wrong to do those 'normal' things without her. "So tomorrow?" Cal raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Gillian agreed.

"I brought you some more stuff," he gestured to the bag he had dropped on the guest chair. Lewis sat back finally. "What's that?" He pointed to her hand.

"That's an IV," Gillian reminded him. She let him inspect it closer this time, explaining about the needle giving her fluids. She looked up at Cal. "What did you bring?"

"Shampoo, more undawear, more clothes, deodorant," he grinned. They had both forgotten that little nicety.

"Is that hurt?" Lewis asked his mother.

"Only if you touch it," Gillian warned. Lewis withdrew his hand slightly in heightened caution.

**PJ**

Gillian was technically discharged in the morning. Cal took Lewis to day care and promised him Mum would be there when he came home. However, Gillian had a hard time leaving. They went up to see the baby before packing her bags and signing the paperwork to leave. He was doing just fine; getting two cubic centimetres of formula in lieu of breast milk, plus other nutrients through his IV line. But, almost the instant they got downstairs again Gillian's pace slowed. Soon she was trailing behind. As Cal lifted their bags into the car, she stood and watched him, instead of getting into the passenger seat. He turned to see her face and it just about broke his heart. She was crying, silently, like she was devastated; she _was_ devastated.

Cal slammed the boot and quickly crossed to her. He put his hands on her upper arms and found her shaking. "Hey, come on," he soothed and brought her a little closer to hold gently. He shifted a hand to her back, rubbing up and down slowly. What to do? He wasn't going to force her into the car and drive off. "Let's go back up. We can be here all day. We don't have to leave." He even thought about who he would call to go and get Lewis and take him home, if he couldn't do it himself. They were going to have to get used to a new habit.

Gillian nodded against his shirt and leaned on him as they headed back to the hospital entrance. Yes, they got a few funny looks, seeing as they had supposedly just left, but Cal kept on marching Gillian towards the elevators. The closer they got the stronger she seemed to get again, like she was re-inflating. Her tears dried up. She joked about making a mess on his shirt. She made a comment about being pathetic.

"Oi," Cal stopped her just shy of entering the NICU by grabbing the loose shirt she was wearing. "Gill. Not pathetic. At all." He pulled her closer to hug her tightly, gently, but tightly; she had just had a baby. "Not at all. You need to be here and that's completely fine. There's no limit on how much time you need to spend here. K?"

She nodded.

"Ok?" Cal asked her louder, more insistently.

"Yes!"

"Good," he let her pull back but not step away. He gave her a steady gaze, staring her down until she looked away a little but nodded. She understood. Good.

They headed into the NICU, taking turns to wash their hands. Gillian waited for Cal to finish and they headed down the row together, saying hello to the nurse on duty and giving another mother sitting next to her baby in its isolette a nod of acknowledgement. There were seven covered bassinets in the unit and Cal was aware that there was another 'step-down' unit that held more. Right now, their boy was in level 2-A. It meant he needed specialised care because he had been born pre-term, but considering that, he was actually doing ok. Thirty-two weeks meant he had a better shot than some. It meant his problems were not going to be so severe. It meant he could grow up and be totally normal; there could be no side-effects at all. But it hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet so it was probably too soon to tell.

The curtain was still pulled around their little one and Cal realised they were still yet to officially name him. Or tell anyone about the name they had already picked out. The baby was lying in the same position he had been in fifteen minutes ago, when they had tried to leave the first time. He didn't move much, especially not the limbs weighted down with needles and monitors and he still had that funny little scowl on his face, like he was in complete disagreement with everything that was going on around him, maybe even with being there. Another nurse was hovering over him, white latex gloves on, a tray beside her. She had his feeding tube in her hand and a plunger on the end and was working it to withdraw his last meal from a few hours ago.

"Hi guys, come in," Dakota greeted them. "I'm just checking to see if the little guy managed to digest any of his last meal." Cal realised what she was doing. Sucking the milk from the baby's previous feeding out, checking it and then she pushed it back in!

Gillian turned towards Cal, clearly a little put off. Cal suggested she take the seat by the plastic bassinet. "Has he?" Cal asked the nurse.

Dakota shook her head. "I do have some good news though. He's coming off the vent."

"Oh?" Gillian perked up.

"He's been doing really great with his breathing and it was more of a precaution anyway," Dakota explained. She finished with the baby's feeding tube and tidied away her cart. She stripped off her gloves and straightened up. "Doctor Parker will be around shortly to do that." Cal nodded he understood. "And she'll explain about the C-Pap while she's here," the nurse added.

"Thank you," Gillian spoke up.

Dakota gave them a smile and pulled her tray with her as she started to leave again.

"Owen," Cal spoke up. Dakota turned towards him, a questioning expression on his face. "His name," he gestured to his son. "It's Owen."

"Right?" Cal turned to Gillian suddenly. She hadn't changed her mind had she? She gave him a pleased smile.

"Owen," Dakota repeated. "I'll make sure to put his name on his chart."


	26. Chapter 26

Cal had to leave to call someone about Lewis. Dana again. She said she didn't mind. She wanted to know when she could come up and see the baby. Cal explained the rules of the NICU. If she was sick at all, or knew anyone that was sick, she absolutely could not come in. He stressed it several times. The baby had no immune system. He could _not_ handle an infection right now. She said she understood.

"Thank you so much," Cal suddenly changed tact. "For everythin' you've done in the last few days. You've been a complete life save-a."

"Oh don't worry about it Cal," Dana dismissed.

"I'll bring Gillian home for dinna," Cal promised. And he was going to. Even if he had to pry her away from the incubator. It was fine that she was there, that she could stay all day, but eventually, he was going to make her spend time with the rest of their family, at home; it was important.

She didn't seem to have any trouble with touching the baby. She rested her hand on the little guy's thigh, or shifted to his arm, or wrapped the length of her palm over the side of his tiny head. But Cal was a man of motion and he wanted to soothe the baby's skin, to pick him up and jig him around. He wasn't allowed to. He did introduce himself though. That was much easier to do once the vent went. They got a glimpse of his face for a few seconds until the CPAP device was attached. The CPAP, or constant positive air pressure, forced air into his lungs to make sure they stayed open and he didn't have to work so hard. It was like a constant air stream being blown into his face, not down his throat. He was also on a little oxygen, which his parents were assured was completely normal. Owen was actually breathing on his own. Cal was proud of him. He was going to be a fighter, just like his brother before him.

Gillian cried as they walked out of the hospital for the second time. Cal slowed down and took her hand, walked at her pace gently, trying to make sure she understood there was no pressure, but that they couldn't go back for a second time. They needed to go home to their son. She explained through the slight sobs that she was just tired. Exhausted more like. Cal was pretty sure she dozed off a little as they headed home. Not to mention the fact that it was extremely difficult being at home knowing that Owen was in the NICU struggling to survive while they... they just went home and left him there.

Cal knew if it was strange for him it must have been a thousand times worse for Gillian. Twenty-four hours ago she had brought Owen into the world and now she was forgoing all those moments she got to bond with him. They would come later. She would still get to hold him, eventually, and breast feed, down the line, but for now, she was empty handed, superfluous. It was not a nice feeling at all. He also knew the NICU was the best place for Owen. He had to learn to breathe, how to digest food, how to regulate his own body temperature and his heart had to strengthen. That would take time. So would the maturity of his immune system. So would his sensitivity to their touch.

Cal was starting to hate waiting too.

**PJ**

Cal was pretty quiet, Gillian suddenly realised as they stopped settling against the mattress and just lay there. Plus, he was over there and usually he was over here with her. She thought back to when. When had it changed? The birth? That was understandable, he was letting her focus. And then after that there was the tense wait to see if the baby was fine, alive even, while she worked on the afterbirth... and then... she didn't quite remember what happened after that. There had been a lot of people around. She had gone to sleep, exhausted and Cal had gone to see their boy. So was it after that? That he got so quiet. Or after he had gone home. Did it even matter? The point was, she hadn't checked in with him in a while.

"Hey," she called out softly. "Where are you?"

He shifted slowly, edging towards her across the bed, until his head appeared on her pillow and she was able to kiss his nose without having to move her head too much. She didn't remember much of last night. They had dinner at home. Her mother was there. After they ate she basically went up to bed and slept the whole night through. Cal woke her twice to pump but aside from that... She had to start pumping on the same schedule the baby would normally eat, otherwise her breasts would have no idea what was going on and would dry up. Four a.m. feeds killed.

Gillian reached up a hand to smooth around her husband's skull. His didn't fit into her hand like the baby's did. "Owen looked better today."

"Yeah," Cal agreed.

Because the CPAP, that constantly blew air down his nose, caused his face and eyes to swell, distorting his features. It had been too hard to tell whose nose he got, or which of their chins. But he was off it now and just had a nasal cannula for that extra oxygen he still needed. The charge nurse assured her the swelling would go down quite quickly. Tomorrow he would look more like himself.

"How many A's and B's?" He asked. He had gone up after work. When Gillian was already home with Lewis. 'A's' were apnoea spells, where Owen stopped breathing and the resulting 'B' was a bradycardia, where his heart rate dropped because of a lack of air. They were scary as hell to watch and paranoia inducing to be on the lookout for. Simply rubbing his back often brought him out of it but Gillian did have to get the nurse once when that didn't seem to be doing the trick and she showed Gillian how to tap the bottom of his feet.

"Six or seven when I was there," Gillian admitted. But then she was basically up there from the moment she left the house to the moment she had to leave to get Lewis. And yes, she had been a little bit late in picking him up the last few days. Cal dropped him off in the morning.

"He had one when I was there. Scared the shit out of me."

Gillian caressed his head again.

"That feels really nice."

Which is exactly why she was doing it. His hand came to rest on her thigh; she was curled on her side facing him. She was still a little crampy from the birth and her breasts were starting to ache. Tomorrow they would be off the chart with swelling and agony. Gillian waited for Cal to keep going; her fingers seemed to encourage him.

"They put him under those bili lights."

"Oh they did? They were testing him for jaundice when I was leaving. I wanted to stay for the results."

"Yeah. They put patches over his eyes, and with the nappy and the blue lights he fully looks like a wee smurf!"

Gillian gave a slight laugh. "Did you get a picture?"

"Of course."

"Share."

"It's sleepy time."

"Then you should have showed me when you got home," she reprimanded lightly.

"Kind of had my hands full with Lewis."

Gillian's fingers hesitated. Whether that was intended as a specific jolt for her or not, it acted as one anyway. She wasn't exactly Lewis focused at the moment.

"We need a plan of attack Gill," Cal's voice was soft, unaccusing.

"Yeah we do," she agreed. Because Cal yearned to see Owen as much as he could and neither of them wanted for Lewis to be abandoned.

"I thought about talkin' to the nurse about lettin' Lewis in. You know, for just a minute. We can wrap him up in a gown and mask and cap, make sure he washes his hands, not let him touch Owen at all. But just look. So he can meet him."

"It wouldn't hurt to ask," Gillian agreed with the idea. "I'll talk to her tomorrow."

Cal let his hand ride a little higher to her hip and gave a squeeze and Gillian gave a little sigh in response. This felt better.

**PJ**

"Hi Owen," Gillian greeted. The baby gave a kind of twitch. She made sure her hand was warm and pressed it around his head. That was her way of letting him know it was her. He had gone from five cc's of formula to seven cc's of her breast milk, now that it had come in, every three hours through his feeding tube.

"Good morning Gillian," Beth the charge nurse approached. "I was about to do a diaper change but you can do it if you'd like."

"Really?" Gillian responded, not intending it to be a question. It was a mere expression of her excitement. She got to her feet.

"Sure can," she gave her a smile. "Owen's getting just twenty-five percent air today," she went on conversationally.

That was good! The room was twenty-one percent oxygen.

"And we upped his first feed this morning to ten cc's." The nurse set up the diaper for Gillian and indicated she should get in close.

Gillian approached. "I'm worried about the wires," she admitted.

"That's ok. You can't dislodge most of them and he doesn't wriggle around too much." But she gathered a few of them and held them out of the way while Gillian peeled back the tabs on the premature-sized baby diaper, which honestly, still looked too big for him, and slid it out from under him.

"Doctor Parker wants to take him off the antibiotics this afternoon too," Beth kept talking.

Now that was fantastic! Gillian felt the excitement rise up in her as she lifted her son's legs by the ankles gently, to slip the clean diaper underneath him. He was making progress and it felt like it was happening quickly, even if it was just a few small things a day. To her they felt monumental. Gillian stuck down the tabs and folded down the top so it wouldn't irritate his healing belly button.

"But I'm sure she will talk to you about that herself."

Meaning, Gillian had been here all day for the last four days so there was a good chance she was going to be there when the doctor came around that afternoon as well.

**PJ**

Cal pushed open the door to the NICU and immediately headed for the sink to wash his hands. He did it thoroughly, scrubbing under his finger nails, getting between each finger, making sure he got in and around his wedding band, and sudsing up as far as his wrist. Probably should have taken his watch off first, but oh well, it was water resistant and it probably didn't hurt to give it a clean either. Once he had dried again he turned. He greeted the charge nurse, Beth, on duty at her station and she gave him a smile and soft greeting in return. Another rule of the neonatal intensive care unit: don't make a lot of loud noises.

He headed down the row, the anticipation building as he neared his son's isolette. The baby was in the same position, the nasal cannula still present, the monitors and IV line all there. He looked about the same, but without the swollen face and grimace and angry red colour. He must not have liked the forced air too much. Poor little guy.

"Hi Owen. Daddy's here," he spoke softly and leaned down slightly to press his hand on the boy's thigh. He did it briefly, not squeezing, merely connecting their skin firmly, and then backing off again. He was normally touchy-feely, but with Owen it was hard.

"Hi Cal how are you?" Dakota approached behind him.

"Good," he turned his head. "How's the little one?"

"He's doing ok," she nodded positively. She told him about the air percentage, the antibiotic cessation and how many cubic centimetres of Gillian's milk he was getting.

"Oh fantastic," Cal enthused softly.

"I was about to change his bedding if you'd like to hold him while I do so?"

"Yeah can I?" Cal just about jumped out of his skin at the chance. Stimulation of premature babies had to be done in short blocks of time with breaks in between. So Cal figured the baby had been left to himself for a little while now. His arrival was perfectly timed.

"Sure," she showed him how it was probably easier to come in from Owen's right, while the mess of wires and tubes were on the other side.

Cal slid his hands beneath the baby's body. The isolette kept him warm, seeing as he hadn't had a chance to pack on the layers of fat while in his mother's womb that would have kept his body temperature regulated. His weight had dropped a little since his birth and Cal lifted the three pounds even easily. He weighed about as much as a chicken roast. Practically nothing. Cal bent his elbows to bring his arms against his body, cradling his boy. This is what he had been hanging out for. Being able to hold his son.

Owen screwed up his face at Cal and he immediately set into a gentle and sub-conscious rock. "Hey you're all right," Cal told him softly. "You're all right." He wondered how much counted as over stimulation. Could he kiss him? Was the rocking too much? This sucked. This sucked big time. He was good at following his natural instincts when it came to being a father and he couldn't follow them in this case. He had to do everything consciously. But he was more grateful that the little guy seemed to be ok; that he was surviving just fine it seemed. Cal was aware they were still in a honeymoon period but still... there was nothing like holding his baby for the first time.


	27. Chapter 27

Gillian headed across town to the day care. She was late and Lewis was one of the last kids there. He looked dejected. Gillian asked how his day was and he simply shook his head at her and put his arms around her hips, burying his face into her still squishy belly. He wanted up, but she couldn't lift him. Lisa approached and explained Lewis had been in a bit of trouble that day. His current mood was probably made worse by the fact that his mother had taken so long to come and get him. He had to stay and face the scene of the crime that much longer. It was no big deal, what he was in trouble for, just not doing what he was asked and resisting his time-out. For Lewis, he may as well have stood in the centre of the room and told everybody to go and get fucked.

He flat out refused to take his mother's hand as they headed out to the car park and then he did something that set a sharp shard of terror into Gillian's heart. He ran behind the cars to get to theirs. He always ran along the path. In front. But not today. A mini-van's reverse lights suddenly came on. "Lewis stop!" Gillian's heart blocked her throat and she took off at an awkward run. He disappeared around the edge of the next parked car and Gillian got more panicked. Now she couldn't see him at all. She gave the mini-van a wide berth even though it hadn't even started to move yet and found Lewis trying the door handle of her car. She hadn't unlocked it for him. When she reached him she yanked his arm so he spun around to face her as she leaned down to his level. His eyes went wide with shock.

"Don't ever do that again! You know better than to run off!" She yelled at him, angry, but mostly scared out of her mind. Lewis shrunk back from her and promptly burst into tears. But she didn't let go of his arm. She unlocked the door and opened it, still holding on to him and roughly put him inside. It wasn't until she got the driver's door that she suddenly realised that she had lost control. Her hands were shaking and she felt an obscene need to throw up. She could still see those reverse lights suddenly coming alive; they were at his exact head height on the tall vehicle. Her heart beat painfully. It was bad enough with one kid in the hospital, she didn't need two.

She might have realised she had lost her rag with her four-and-a-half year old but that didn't mean she calmed down any. Not until they were home and the garage door had gone down and she could hear the whimpers of her boy in the back. Aside from turning to tell him to put his seatbelt on, which he had done with more keening sobs and zero refusal, she hadn't even looked at him to make sure he was all right. Fail. God this was hard. She was exhausted, waking every four hours to pump breast milk, for which she had to go downstairs for, because she didn't want to disturb Cal, no matter what he said about not minding the noise and interruption. And even though the drive to the hospital wasn't more than twenty minutes, if traffic was on her side, all that travelling was getting to her. And then starting to learn how to breast feed her pre-term baby. And connect with her husband. And fielding those incessant phone calls from her mother about Owen.

"I'm sorry Mum!" Lewis wailed into the silence.

Oh shit. Shitty, shit, fuck ass.

Gillian pulled on her car door and got out. She went around to Lewis's side and opened his. He was standing on the floor behind the passenger seat, his face red, tear and snot streaked; his blue eyes huge and watery. "Come here baby," Gillian crouched down to his level and opened her arms, her face and tone finally softened. Like she could ever stay mad at him for long. Lewis leaned forward and she grabbed him; he was hot and damp. And he was getting heavy. She barely lifted him out of the vehicle before putting him down on the concrete floor. She knelt, ignoring the uncomfortableness of the cold ground beneath her knees. She kept her arms around her boy though while he cried into her shoulder. He clung on to her fiercely. She rubbed his back slowly and he sort of collapsed into her lap and hung on to her neck.

"Don't be mad at me!" He wailed.

"Hey," Gillian pulled him back so he would see her face, hear her words. "I'm not mad at you." She looked him right in the eye when she said it so he would get the point and shook her head slightly. "You _scared_ me." She used the sign, like she was shoving a 'wave of fear' through her body. Her face was distraught. "When you ran off like that. _Behind_ the cars." She made a complicated sign with her right hand in a fist and her open left hand moving in a circular motion then closing and moving behind the first. "Remember we talked about this? You can't run behind cars because you could get hurt. And I don't want you to get hurt." She signed 'hurt' by jamming her index fingers towards each other in front of her sharply.

"Why you yell at me?" His eyes were full of accusation. He put his hand to his mouth in a 'claw' and moved it up and away.

"Because I love you a lot," she exaggerated the sign so he could see just how much, so he would get the full impact of that statement. "And I don't want you to be hurt and not come home with me. I don't want to have to visit you in the hospital like Owen." Hospital was making a cross on her upper arm with the index and middle finger from her dominant hand. She shook her head while doing it. No hospital.

Lewis still looked baleful but he had that thoughtful expression on his face now that meant he was listening and absorbing.

"Do you think it would be very fun to be hurt and have to go to the hospital?" 'Think' was simply pointing to her head, just above her right eye so it was off centre.

Lewis shook his head.

"Do you think Dad would like it if you were hurt and had to go to the hospital?"

Lewis shook his head more vigorously.

"What about Grandpa and Grandma?"

Lewis shook his head again.

"And Emily and Ajay?"

Lewis shook his head once more.

"Me either Lewis. It's my job to keep you safe." She crossed her arms in front of her at the wrist, her hands in fists, and moved them out so they were on either side of her. "Because I'm your Mum and when you do silly," she made a 'Y' shaped hand and turned it so the thumb was towards her face and twisted her wrist slightly twice. "Things like that I get scared you will have to go to the hospital." Thick enough? Had he got the point?

"I'm sorry Mum," Lewis tried again. He made a fist from his hand and rubbed it in a quick circle against his chest clockwise. He leaned in for another hug.

Gillian squeezed him tightly. "You're my big boy. I need you home with me." And all of a sudden there were tears in her eyes too.

**PJ**

The house seemed quiet when Cal came in. It made sense, Lewis had already watched TV that morning and that was pretty much his allocation for the day. But when he rounded the kitchen doors, greeting his wife, who was slicing carrots at the sink, he could see she looked upset, not crying, but upset, and his heart immediately hit the floor. "What's wrong?" He bee-lined her, putting his arms around her, trying to turn her away from the chopping board and towards him, so he could hug her properly. "Drop the knife Gillian," he commanded. She put it down and caved, turning in to him, pressing her face to his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist.

And now: soothing mode. Cal rubbed his hands up and down her back gently, planting a kiss in her hair, sort of humming, or at least forming no words, but letting the vibration of his voice go through her, setting a new rhythm for her brain to focus on. And when that had gone on long enough, perhaps some light comic relief? "Your breasts feel fantastic."

She gave a laugh and pulled away from him. She avoided his eye a little so Cal gripped her chin lightly and tilted her head up to see him. "What happened?" Because now that they'd had a nice comforting hug and she seemed ok again he was back to imagining the absolute worst, despite dejected body language being a regularity. Gillian was still hormonal, still stressed out; she tended to randomly cry a bit but that didn't mean something hadn't happened to set her off this time. "Owen?"

She shook her head. "No, not Owen. Lewis."

Oh that's right he had another son. Guilt shot through him like it had been injected intravenously. "What happened with Lewis?" His voice had a tinge of fear to it. He was all right wasn't he? It couldn't be serious could it? He'd have gotten a phone call about a hospital if it had.

"He ran behind a reversing car today," Gillian's voice sounded strange; tears welled.

Cal pulled her back into a hug. It was too hard watching her cry. It made him want to cry too. "Did it hit him?"

"No but it could have been close. It really scared me," her voice was strong again.

Could have been close. So it wasn't close. Ok. He could continue to breathe easy. "What'd he do that for?" Cal mused. "He knows betta than that."

"I don't know."

Oh wait, it scared her. And with Owen and the post-pregnancy hormones... "Come with me," Cal started to head backwards.

"I have to make dinner," Gillian objected.

"Tough shit, I'm sure it can wait," Cal retorted, walking her towards the couch. She stumbled against him, steadying herself with a hand on his waist.

"Cal," she tried again before he dropped heavily into a seat and pulled her down with him, practically in his lap.

"We'll worry about dinna late-a," Cal told her. "Now tell me about what happened with Lewis."

"I yelled at him," Gillian ducked her head again and just with those little snippets of information Cal didn't really need the rest. He could piece it together. She got a fright, she yelled, Lewis cried, she cried, she felt guilty; Lewis would think she didn't love him anymore. Bad situation but really, not the end of the world. Yes, Lewis was practically a saint who needed very little management once he had gotten over the need to tear the house apart at age two. He had always been a good boy, mature in his own way and willing to do the right thing. He always got plenty of attention because of it, and the fact that he was an only child, but now, with baby number two, the dynamic was shifting. They were all going to have to relearn their roles.

"It's gonna take adjustin'," Cal told her. "For you and for Lewis and for me. We've been neglectin' him a bit, considerin' he's used to our undivided attention, so he'll act out in small ways. That's actually normal." He kept his tone light. "Doesn't mean bein' told off for somethin' like that isn't warranted. It absolutely is. He knows betta than that. Gettin' himself killed is not ok unda any circumstances. Considerin' we're just about at the end of our tetha, I'd say we've done well not to bite the kids head off every two minutes. Don't you think?"

Gillian gave a small noise but otherwise didn't move. Her face was in his shoulder. Hiding from him.

"We need to make a plan Gill to deal with all of this betta. You know? So we can get a routine goin' instead of just barely scarpin' by. I'll take some time off work."

Her head came up. "You're saving that time for when Owen comes home."

"Funnily enough, I'm my own boss. So if I need time now I'll take it and I'll take some more then too. They cope without us. Probably betta than I'd hope to be honest."

Gillian gave a faint smile. Cal was more purposeful with his because he wanted her to see that he was trying to lighten the mood again, and that he was teasing.

"Just a few days here and there, maybe a few half days. I hardly get to see Owen," he added. "Feel like I'm missin' out a bit."

Gillian's face morphed into concern. Her hand came up to caress the hair at his temple and then smooth around to the back, where it was short and soft. "You know, sometimes, I feel like I'm doing this alone."

"All right," Cal gave a firm nod, dislodging her hand. She put it back. "So that's sorted. Time off. Cos I'm not havin' that. I'll go up to the hospital and hang out for a bit." He looked around. "Maybe give this place a bit of attention too. And Lewis. Where is Lewis?"

"Outside. Riding his bike."

Oh shit. He had forgotten about his promise. "I'll actually teach Lewis to ride it then," Cal added. "What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know," Gillian replied pitifully.

"Yes you do, come on," Cal nudged her. "What are you gonna do?"

**PJ  
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Cal stepped out into the cold and zipped up his jacket, ducking his head against the cold wind so his chin tucked into the top of his collar. He hoped Lewis was all rugged up and Gillian hadn't let him sneak out without a warm jersey and hat. Lewis made a turn around the end of the back yard and disappeared out of view again until Cal rounded the house. The boy was marking out a circuit on the grass. He looked up as Cal approached. "Hi Dad!" He called, lifting out of his seat a little. He had taken to the bike easily. But there were still training wheels to keep him steady. The idea had been to get him sorted without them before Owen got here. So much for that.

"Hi Lewis," Cal answered. "Come over here a sec buddy." Cal took a seat on the icy cold wooden bench, gesturing to his son. Lewis rode his bike over, struggling against the resistance of the long grass. When he got close he climbed down and sauntered over to his father slowly, reluctantly.

"Didn't do it," Lewis mumbled as he bumped into Cal's knees.

Cal reached for him, pulling him up into his lap. "What didn't you do?" He asked, curious to see what the boy would say.

Lewis leaned his head against his father's shoulder, placing a much smaller hand over Cal's as they folded, fingers linked, behind Lewis's back, to hold his weight comfortably. "That thing what Mum told you."

Smart kid. Actually, a little disturbingly so.

"Mum told me you ran behind parked cars today," Cal told him gently. "Did you?"

Lewis nodded mournfully. "It was an akkiden." He used 'mistake' rolling a 'Y' hand along his chin, starting with the thumb against his jaw and ending with the pinky finger at the other end against the opposite side of his chin.

"All right," Cal agreed. "Did you forget?" He swept his fingers against his forehead like he was erasing something in a single brushing stroke.

Lewis nodded again.

"You know why Mum and I don't want you to do that don't you?"

Lewis nodded.

"Why?" Cal pressed softly. He brought his hand to his forehead and as he moved it out and away he changed it into a 'Y' hand shape, but with his palm still facing him.

Lewis took a second but when he did speak he sounded like he was upset. "Cos I might get hurt." He made the sign.

"Yeah," Cal agreed. He hugged his son a little tighter, noting how cold the boy's face was against his neck. "And that wouldn't be good would it?'

Lewis shook his head. "Mum's mad at me."

Cal rocked his legs back and forth a little. "No Lewis, she's not mad."

"She yelled."

"She was scared. Like when you ran off at the mall and I got very scared and yelled at you too then, do you rememba?"

Lewis nodded.

"I was mad cos you ran off but not mad at you. You're my wee man. I'll neva be mad at you Lewis, only sometimes the things you do. And Mum's only mad cos you ran behind the cars when you know you're not meant to. She's not mad at you. In fact, she asked me to come out and find you cos she needs me and you to set the table. You think you can help me help Mum?"

Lewis nodded.

Cal kissed his head. He smelt a little like Gillian, like she had been hugging him recently. She had a way of getting her scent all over the boy, and Cal too when she really went for it. But underneath that was the way that Lewis smelt and Cal was reminded that he was growing into his own person. Soon, he would be at school.


	28. Chapter 28

Owen cried! It wasn't overly loud or forceful, but it was there and it was so nice to _hear_ him. He was usually so quiet in his isolette, especially with some sort of breathing assistance in his face. Today was bath day. When the nurse had suggested to Gillian that she could help bathe him she had called Cal. With Lewis and work, they were hardly ever up at the hospital at the same time and this felt like the perfect excuse for them to do something with Owen together. It was taking them time to adjust, sure, but Gillian also didn't like the feeling that she hardly got to spend time with her husband that didn't involve getting ready for bed and going to sleep.

"Oi come on," Cal coaxed Owen gently, his large hand holding the baby's head and neck while Gillian trailed water over his skin. At least he wasn't that angry red anymore. Not exactly cherub pink either but he _was_ gaining weight, slowly, and filling out. He was a few ounces over his birth weight now and getting extra calories added to Gillian's breast milk to help him gain weight that bit faster. That felt like a victory in the right direction. After the infection last week, the cessation of feeds and a course of antibiotics, including being put back on the CPAP, anything that showed improvement made Cal feel a whole lot better about his boy's progress.

"We're just makin' you clean," Cal told Owen. The umbilical stump had fallen off which meant they could finally submerge him in water. Sort of. They were set up on a trolley right by all his monitors and medical equipment, just in case. The oxygen saturation monitor had been removed from his foot for this and his IV line had officially been removed yesterday, so they just had to be careful of the apnoea and bradycardia monitors, which were, thankfully, plastic covered and waterproof.

Gillian smoothed her hand slowly over the boy's head, pressing against Cal's fingers to get the water between father and son. She took her time and was focussed and Cal turned his head to watch her for a moment. She still cried a bit. Mostly when she had to leave Owen. But sometimes he caught her tearing up at random moments. She said it was because she was tired. Cal knew it was more than that; crazy hormones were still coursing through her. It had been well over a week, nearly two, since Owen had been born too early, but that didn't make this situation any easier. Their house was a mess. Laundry piled up. Lewis was often late for his pre-K classes. But they were surviving through it. Surviving. Not exactly excelling. They were still working on that plan. But it was getting better. It was.

"Cal," Gillian got his attention and he realised he had been day dreaming. She was nudging the baby by the shoulder. He had gone still and pale. He had stopped breathing. Cal's heart rate started to go up as Owen's slowed down, and tension entered his shoulders. Gillian nudged Owen again, firmer this time. The alarm of the monitor started to sound and Cal wondered if he should take Owen out of the water. He couldn't keep his body temperature up by himself; he would freeze with no clothes on. Owen still didn't stir and the nurse approached quickly, not panicked, but with some urgency. Gillian switched to tapping the bottom of Owen's feet forcefully.

Owen started to go blue and the nurse reached forward to intervene. Cal's heart beat so hard it was starting to feel uncomfortable and he was afraid he was going to drop the baby. There was nothing worse than standing there with his hands full of an infant who was not breathing and not be able to do anything. But Owen suddenly sucked in a breath and another. The nurse relaxed, the machine quit its alert but Cal didn't calm down. Not until Owen had gone pink again did he feel comfortable about even moving. The nurse suggested it was time to get him out again. But not dressed. Not until he could regulate his own body temperature would he get clothes.

**PJ**

"That was scary," Gillian admitted as they headed out of the hospital. It was time to get Lewis. Cal volunteered. Gillian said she would meet him at home, seeing as they had arrived in different cars.

"It was," he agreed. "You know if you wanna stay for a bit." Because it must be hard for her to walk away after that. What with Lily and all.

Gillian slipped her hand into his. "No, it's ok. Family time at home sounds pretty good about now." They headed into the car park and then tried going their separate ways. Their arms extended out until their hands pulled.

Cal laughed suddenly. "Just had the biggest flashback."

Gillian stepped closer to him again. "I'm over there."

"But I'm ova there," he repeated. Gillian put her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest and throat. Cal pressed his cheek against her hair. "Do you rememba?"

"Yes."

The night their nephew Max had been born; he wasn't Cal's back then but he was now. So long ago. Cal chuckled again. He wasn't even sure he had thought about having kids with Gillian at that point. They had just got back together. Things had been a little weird. Cal was still figuring out what he wanted. He wanted Gillian, but how much? It wasn't long after that he had started thinking about marriage.

"What?" Gillian queried lightly.

"Nuthin'. I'm glad you called me today." Change the subject, distract her. It seemed that was enough; he didn't have to add anything more to that statement. All the things left unsaid were shouted out into the silence. Gillian held him tighter. She shifted her head and gave him their first proper kiss since she had gone into labour, almost two weeks ago now.

"Love you Cal."

He gave her a smile, loved the way her eyes glittered in their genuineness. "Love you too."

**PJ**

"How have things been?"

"Tough," Cal admitted. "There's all that normal baby tension stuff goin' on but no baby and it's worse because we're also waitin' to bring him home as soon as we can."

"When are you allowed to take him home?" Wu crossed his leg over his knee.

"We don't actually know. It could be at least a month. As his docta keeps tellin' us: it's all up to Owen."

"How is he doing?"

"Good. Gained a couple of ounces in weight; he's just short of four pounds now. He's still on the air but he's figa-ed out how to pull the cannula off his face. You go in and he's got it in his little fist," Cal smiled, proud, gushing. He didn't care. The psychologist _did_ ask. They were allowed to pick him up now, so long as he'd had a chance to rest between his last interaction and they had learnt to be able to tell when he was sleepy or over stimulated. Cal could snuggle him up against his chest, buttoning his shirt over him. The nurses called it Kangaroo-care; the skin to skin contact would help the baby connect, develop and grow.

Wu smiled pleasantly. Cal gave a little mouth shrug, to say he had finished. The doctor could change the subject if he wished. "And how is Gillian coping?"

"Surprisingly well," Cal responded optimistically. Now.

"Would you be able to tell if she wasn't?"

"Yes," Cal answered confidently. He was noticing a change.

"And you? Are you coping?"

"I think so yeah. I mean, Gill was pretty distant for a while last week, you know, right afta she got home? And I don't think it helped that I was bein' pretty distant." He held up a hand, almost in warning. "Can't exactly blame the whole thing on her. That's not right."

Wu gave him a wry smile. He nodded. "Very good."

"I think, at least for me, it was the shock of it. It happened quite fast and there's that double worry of the baby not bein' completely right and the emotional aftamath for Gill. It's a lot like afta Lewis was born. But he was with us the whole time and he came home."

Not that Lewis's birth was in any way practice for what they were going through now.

"I can imagine that's very difficult."

"Yeah but we kind of have a system now for gettin' up there to see Owen and runnin' around afta Lewis and tryin' to put a dent in the housework. Gill's mum's been really good."

She came over with meals, or cooked and did laundry and dishes. It helped. She said it was her duty as the Grandmother and Cal was half inclined to believe her.

Wu gave Cal another smile. "That's great to hear."

**PJ**

_AN: Slightly M section_

"Are you awake?"

"I am now," Cal mumbled. He felt Gillian shift, but instead of further away, it was closer against his chest. An embrace. A hug. He let his arm drop around her, gave a pleased kind of murmur. "Boobs," he muttered. "Fantastic." He felt Gillian chuckle.

"Such a dirty mind."

Cal woke up further. This was different. He let his hand slide a little lower into the small of her back. She reached back and shifted it further down to her butt. "Oh hello," Cal spoke up, finally catching on.

"Hello," Gillian murmured. Cal could feel her breath tickle against his neck. It was still dark, even for March, so it must have been early. Early enough for no Lewis. Early enough to be between pumps of breast milk. He hoped anyway. He hoped she wasn't waking him up in the dead of the night for... Wait, what were they doing?

"Gill?"

"Hm?" She hummed pleasantly as she found his lips.

"Um. Just wonderin' what we're doin' here."

Gillian shifted to kiss in the hollow beneath his jaw. She nibbled at him gently and he gave a disgruntled sigh. "Fooling around?" She finally supplied.

"Ok," Cal agreed. They were on that six week no sex ban again and only two weeks into it. Nearly three. Nearly half way.

"Because the thing is," Gillian murmured, her hand suddenly against his groin. Cal flinched. "I've been thinking about you."

"Oh," Cal strangled out as she massaged him. "Gill."

"I miss you," she almost whined. She shifted her hand beneath underwear. "And we've been doing so well at figuring out a plan. And talking. This seems like the next step, don't you think?"

Cal wasn't even listening but he was aware she had suddenly gone quiet and that the air was loaded with the question he hadn't heard. "Sorry what?"

"Never mind," she sounded amused. She shifted to kiss his throat again. He felt her teeth and tongue, the way her fingers alternated between firm and feather. Her full breasts pressed against his chest, soft and warm. He could feel his heart rate steadily rising, his skin getting hot as she worked him. She worked him perfectly. At some point through their marriage he figured it would be a turn off that she knew him too well. He always figured they'd hit the wall. He'd get bored with her. But no. She knew, but she didn't rush it, she teased and she drew it out, stringing him along just enough until he started begging. He never begged. Gillian let out a laugh and he wanted to flip her over and ride her hard, but no. He wasn't allowed to do that either. So he settled for fisting the bed sheet, for trying to gain a little of his control back with hip thrusts that should throw her off; they didn't. He struggled with her name in his throat, which only amused her more and just when he thought he was about to die she tipped him into release and withdrew.

"Wholly fff," he stammered and couldn't finish the word. Gillian laughed lightly. Cal rolled into her, feeling limp and yet wired. He growled against her throat and she shivered. "Oh," he noted lightly. "So that was a little bit hot for you too was it?"

"Why do you think I woke you up?"

Cal growled again, low and dangerous and purposeful. He shifted his arm out from under him and went straight for the jugular. Gillian arched her back off the bed in a sudden convulsive movement. "Oh shit!"

"Swearin'!" Cal reprimanded. He bit her neck, open mouthed, not a nip, because nips left angry little red marks and an open bite was more likely to fade faster. He didn't sooth the spot either, because that aggravated the skin more. Or at least, that was what he had figured out about Gillian.

Her lithe fingers closed around his upper and lower arm, clung on tight. "Sorry," she whispered to the ceiling. "It's your fault."

"My fault?" Cal murmured. "Have I been teachin' you bad habits too?"

"Too easy," Gillian groaned.

Cal chuckled. Gillian slipped her hand to his wrist, applied pressure. "Oh do you want to do it? Should I just go have my showa?"

"No," she whined. "Just hurry."

"Hurry? That's so offensive Gillian."

"I'm on a schedule."

"What time is it!" Cal asked shocked.

"Six."

"Bloody hell," Cal groaned.

"Swearing," she retorted.

"That's not a swear word."

Gillian gave a huff. She squirmed. "Can we not? Not right now?"

Cal grinned to himself. He leaned in to her neck again, kissing and teasing her skin. Gillian gave a little 'oh' and squirmed again. And then the alarm went off and she tensed up. "Shall I get that?" Cal asked lightly.

"Would you?" Gillian responded politely.

He shifted, had to withdraw his hand; the groan of displeasure she gave cut right through him and made his heart pound suddenly. There was no way he could _still_ be turned on, could he? He struggled with once a day... Or at least, he used to.

Cal hit the button to shut the alarm up. Gillian wrapped her arms around his neck and clung on, kissing him as he turned back, tangling his legs in hers and pyjamas and bed sheets. She pushed him onto his back, rubbed herself against him; so not fair. She reached for his hand, selected two of his fingers and directed them exactly where she wanted them, letting out a satisfied sigh as the connection was made again. She pressed down on him and Cal decided he didn't particularly want to be a passive participant when he was supposed to be pleasuring her. That was kind of beside the point. So he sat up into her, wrapping his left arm around her back to hold her tightly against his body. Her head dropped to his shoulder as he pressed his thumb upwards. "Oh god!" She groaned.

'_There_,' Cal thought smugly. '_Can't do that without my assistance can you?_'

He pushed harder, slowly winning over control until she gave up and wrapped her arms around his neck and head, pressing his face in close against her shoulder. He could feel her breasts again and the dampness of her skin. He fought back the urge to turn her over again. Maybe they shouldn't be doing this, 'fooling around' as Gillian put it; Cal didn't know what was worse, the taste of temptation or simply abstaining.

The thing with Gillian is that Cal knew her so well too and he thought he would have gotten bored with knowing every way to take her to the heights of pleasure. He knew the exact amount of pressure, the pace to set, the moment when if he didn't end it she would hurt him in her desperation. But it was fun. Still fun. She collapsed against him, breathing heavily, hot, damp, quivering and Cal rode it out with his arm around her, holding her tightly against him.

Then she gave a moan and he slid her to his side, against the mattress, leaned over her and pressed his mouth against hers sweetly.

"Consida yourself beaten at your own game," Cal told her, kissing her neck a little and then withdrawing.


	29. Chapter 29

Gillian washed her hands and in her excitement had to make sure she was actually doing a thorough job. She dried quickly and headed down the centre of the room to where the charge nurse was by Owen's plastic crib. The NICU had emptied out yesterday. Owen was the only one there now, which according to the staff was a weird slump. There were still babies in the step-down unit and Gillian knew there were at least three other high risk mothers in the hospital, their babies had the potential to arrive any day and then the neonatal unit would be busy again; one woman was having triplets. For now, it almost seemed quiet, aside from the noise of the machines monitoring her baby boy. This was probably the perfect day to start nursing; there was no one else around to witness or distract or frustrate. Or judge.

Gillian's breasts were full and heavy. She had pumped that morning on schedule and then got the phone call from the nurse asking her to come in for the ten o'clock feeding. So she volunteered to take Lewis to day care and picked up a few supplies they were getting desperate for and tried so hard to kill time. She arrived early. So what. Her breasts felt full and heavy most of the time anyway. And there was no rule that said she couldn't come up and just be with Owen before she attempted his first feed.

"Good morning," Beth greeted her.

"Morning," Gillian responded with a smile.

"I'm just moving Owen's feeding tube."

Gillian looked down to see what the nurse was doing. The tube now ran down Owen's nose. He didn't look very happy with her. "He's back on air?" Gillian noted the nasal cannula.

"He had quite a few spells in the night."

"And it's still ok to try and nurse?"

Beth nodded. "He's thirty-four weeks. He's been going at his pacifier just fine. It's time to try." Stress on the 'try'. She finished up taping the feeding line in place and stripped off her latex gloves. Gillian wanted to touch her little man but held off. There was such a thing as too much touching. She thought back to Cal that morning and almost blushed. With the nurse gone Owen's face relaxed again. "Just remember it won't be easy the first time," Beth went on, packing away her tray of supplies. "It will be harder than with a newborn."

"I understand," Gillian confirmed. She had already been spoken to about this. Beth would help her though. She wasn't going to just go at it alone. Although she could. She had certainly mastered it with Lewis. Even if it had taken an eternity. Gillian just wanted to nurse her baby. She just wanted to feel like she was an actual mother instead of a babysitter. Bath time was great, kangaroo care even better, but nothing would compare to feeding her baby the way nature intended.

"I'm just going to clear this away," Beth told her. "And I'll be back when it's time."

Gillian nodded. She leaned in to the isolette and pressed her hand around the back of Owen's head. He looked up towards her but his gaze seemed relatively unfocused; his eyes were a kind of grey, like his father's. "Hi little guy," Gillian murmured. Owen waved his arms. Gillian smiled; the warm feeling of love in her heart.

They were going to attempt to feed Owen twice a day, either by breast or by bottle. The rest of his feeds would still be by the feeding tube. That was because he was still too young to manage more. He would get tired easily. And as Gillian found out, it was hard for him to suck, swallow, keep breathing and stay awake. Ten spells of apnea and bradycardia later and Gillian was starting to feel traumatised. Beth stood by to keep an eye on him but Gillian was able to watch as the colour drained out of his face before the monitors even picked up that he was in distress. Then he got sleepy and constantly drifted off and Beth finally called it. She suggested they try again tomorrow. She put Owen back in the crib while Gillian dressed herself again, her hands shaking slightly, wondering what that was from exactly.

"That was a great first try!" Beth enthused kindly, settling Owen, checking the leads stuck all over him to make sure they weren't tangled or missing. "We'll try the afternoon feed tomorrow though. He tends to be a little more alert then."

Gillian agreed. She would have to get Cal to pick Lewis up. Speaking of which, she had a sudden urge to call him. She excused herself for the phone available for parents and dialled out his number. "Lightman," he answered.

"Hey it's me."

"Hi me. How'd it go?"

"Eh," she responded.

"That didn't sound entirely... what happened?"

Gillian told him about how Owen stopped breathing when he was latched on and she had to pry him loose to nudge him into rhythm again. Then how he simply got sleepy.

"You sound disappointed."

"Maybe a little."

"It wasn't gonna go perfectly the first time."

"I know that," she responded sharper than she intended.

"You sound stressed out luv. Come and have lunch with me."

Gillian listened to his voice. He went quiet, waiting for her response but she wanted to just listen to him for a while. "What are you doing?"

"Workin'. I promise. Loke-a and I are hot on the trail of what looks like one of them hedge-fund embezzla's." He sounded excited but after he paused for a second his tone was serious and forceful again. "Lunch Gill. You and me. Alone time. I got a taste for it this mornin' and now I want more."

Gillian smiled. She checked her watch. Whoa was that really the time! "I have to pump."

"Sounds like an excuse," Cal teased.

"You know it's ridiculous, my nipple is bigger than his face."

Cal laughed. "All I heard was nipple."

Gillian hoped he was alone wherever he was.

"Lunch," Cal pressed.

"I really do have to pump Cal. You know I'm on a schedule." Owen's schedule, so it would be the same as it was at the hospital and less disruptive when he got home. "But after that?"

"Now you're on. So, in say an hour?"

"Ok. But Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to come in. Can you meet me downstairs?"

"Of course, my darlin'. I'll see you there. Wear somethin' sexy." And he hung up.

**PJ**

"Poor Lewis," Cal murmured against his wife's hair. "You know what he said to me today?" He paused slightly and went on anyway, not exactly expecting an answer. "He said 'everyone else gets to see Wen but me.'"

"Aw did he?" Gillian sounded distressed. She felt everything so much more acutely.

"Grandma, Emy, Mum. Lots of big people."

"Oh," Gillian felt worse.

"So I talked to Beth while I was up there this aftanoon and practically got down on my knees and begged her to let Lewis come up for a visit."

"And?" Gillian prompted.

"She was reluctant as hell until I suggested puttin' Lewis in a biohazard suit."

Gillian gave a slight chuckle at the image despite herself. "And?"

"And she reluctantly agreed. But she had me promise her that he wasn't sick and that he would stay home from day care on a twenty-four hour quarantine. And he was goin' in that biohazard suit."

"So that was a 'yes'?"

"It was a yes," Cal confirmed.

Gillian shifted where she lay to kiss his cheek and then she gave him a fierce hug. "I love you, you know?"

"Yes I know," Cal responded lightly.

"Did you think Owen looked pale this afternoon?"

"Hmm," Cal thought back. "No he seemed all right. Dozy though. Practically snubbed me out to sleep."

"He reminds me of you."

"You say that about Lewis. They can't both be like me surely?"

"He is. Owen is. When I'm trying to feed him, he looks up at me like 'what the hell is this? Too much effort when they'll just put it directly in my stomach.'"

Cal gave a slight laugh. He could actually imagine Owen making that kind of face.

"He looks exactly like you when he does it."

Which can't have been true. Cal hadn't decided who the baby looked like. It was too difficult to tell with cannula's and feeding tubes in the way. He suspected the little guy had gotten Gillian's nose though. And it looked like his eye colour. But that didn't mean anything. They wouldn't know for sure until his permanent colour settled when he was six months old.

"Well at least I know he's mine."

Gillian slapped a hand against his chest lightly.

"Violence," Cal warned. "That's five minutes in time out if you're not careful."

Gillian gave a slight laugh. "Sorry," she pouted. "Kiss to make it better?"

"Don't start. I'm sleepin'."

Gillian smiled against his neck, placing a soft kiss there anyway. "Owen refuses to latch on," she went on because who else did she have to talk about this kind of thing?

"Just like Lewis then."

"No Lewis didn't know how. Owen knows how, he's done it before, but he's all of a sudden decided he doesn't want to. As soon as I give up and put him down he goes at his pacifier for half an hour."

"That does sound like me," Cal mused. "Stubborn and defiant."

"Yes!"

"Want me to talk to him? Threaten time out?"

"Would you?"

"But you have to get the next one, othawise he'll get it into his head that I'm the bad guy."

"I could live with that," Gillian teased lightly.

"Oi," Cal complained in the dark but he tightened his arms around her slightly and Gillian settled a little more contently. "So Lewis. I'll stay at home with him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" She sounded suddenly sleepy.

"Yep tomorrow," Cal affirmed. "Really, poor kid. He's havin' a hard time at the moment."

"I know," Gillian mused softly. "He just wants to be included."

"Workin' on it."

"You're such a good dad," she gave him one last squeeze and then fell asleep.


	30. Chapter 30

Cal thanked the charge nurse, Beth, and bent down to crouch in front of his excited four and a half year old. He opened the massive gown and directed Lewis to put his arms through the sleeves. Then he wrapped it around him twice and did it up at the front. He rolled Lewis's sleeves until they were almost at his hands but stopped.

"It's huge!" Lewis gushed.

"Yeah," Cal reached for the cap, and put that on his son's head, doing the same with the cord, wrapping it around his head and then tying it at the back.

"This is fun Dad."

"That's good," Cal told him absently. He put booties over Lewis's shoes too, securing them with rubber bands around the top of his foot and his ankles. Lewis joked he was going to lose his balance, swaying from side to side and calling out 'whoa!' When Cal had finished, he took Lewis by the shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Now, rememba, when we go in, you have to be nice and quiet for the otha babies who are not well and need to rest ok?" Lewis nodded solemnly. "And no touchin' anythin' cos we don't want to give the baby germs." He signed 'shhh' and shook his head.

"Nasty germs," Lewis agreed turning up his nose in distaste. He gestured but Cal had no idea what he had just signed under all that yellow gown.

Germs had been an interesting concept to explain to him. Without completely insulting the boy. Cal wasn't going to tell him he was dirty and not to be trusted around his little brother. But he had made it clear that Lewis could bring home a bug, that no one could see, that no one knew he could have, from day care, that might make his brother very ill. So if Lewis wanted to see his brother, he was going to have to make sure he was all covered up and no touching and some very thorough hand washing was going to take place. Lewis agreed though. Probably because he didn't know what he was getting himself in for.

Cal reached for the face mask, the last touch, and brought it up to his son's mouth. He put it on carefully, so that Lewis's eyes showed and the mask was mostly down his chin. He tied it up at the back in a loose knot, so it was tight enough without digging in. "All right?" Cal asked him, a pang of nerves hitting his stomach. This should work. It should be fine. Owen was nearly thirty-five weeks gestation, nearly three weeks old; this should be fine.

Lewis nodded so Cal turned him and pushed him gently towards the door to the neonatal unit. He took the boy straight over to the sink and lifted him slightly, bringing up a knee for Lewis to perch on. Cal pushed back the sleeves of the gown, lathered his son's smaller hands with soap and rinsed them off thoroughly again. He dried them too and made sure the long sleeves covered over his fingers once more. Then he told him to wait there because he had to wash his hands too; and to remain quiet as well, just like he was, the good boy.

Lewis obliged and Cal made sure he did a thorough job of his own hands. When he turned around again Lewis was waving enthusiastically at his mother down the end of the room. She waved back from where she sat, Owen in her arms. But he _was_ being quiet, bless him. Cal lifted the boy to his hip and carried him down the centre aisle to where his wife was with their youngest son. And all of a sudden he was feeling overwhelmed. This was the first time his family was together. Well, Emily would have completed it perfectly but bringing his boys together with Gillian... it was just...

"Hi Lewis," Gillian greeted him gently.

Lewis waved again, but kept his mouth shut. Cal put him down and he leaned on his mother's knees to see the baby. "This is Owen," Gillian introduced.

Cal crouched down. "You can say hello," he told Lewis.

"Hi Owen," Lewis spoke up. "He's a verr little baby." He must have made a 'small' gesture but it was too hard to tell.

"He is," Cal agreed. "Do you rememba why?"

"Um cos he came out of Mum's tummy too fast."

Close enough.

"That's right. So we have to be very careful with him," Cal repeated. Drill that into the boy's head, that way he would get the message.

Owen was sucking on a pacifier, showing he could do the motion while also breathing at the same time. Once he mastered that, during actual breast feeding, it would be a check on the criteria to come home. So far, he wasn't exactly gaining any of those milestones.

"What do you think?" Gillian asked.

"I think," Lewis started, stopped, hummed a little. "He's verr pitty." He waved a sleeve in front of his face.

Cal smiled, looking up at his wife. She gave him a gushing grin. God damn he could be cute sometimes, even completely obscured from head to toe.

"Dad can we stay?"

"Yeah buddy we can stay for a little bit." Cal agreed.

"When can I give him a kiss?"

**PJ**

Owen had anaemia. Just as one kid was sorted the other seemed to take a turn. It was common in premature babies, and apparently no big deal, easy to treat, but it seemed to Cal that just as things started going right again something else happened to throw a spanner in the works. On top of the anaemia, Owen still had spells of apnoea and bradycardia's that meant he sporadically went on and off the nasal cannula. At least he was feeding better now. But he couldn't have two bottle or breast feeds back to back and one morning Gillian had gone up to feed him only to find the shift nurse had given him the bottle. She had called Cal in tears and he had gone down that evening, on his way home, to give the staff an earful. He merely meant to see how the mix up had occurred but well, that shift nurse, she had this arrogant little air to her that had really just rubbed his sleep deprived self up the wrong way. Beth the charge nurse was a saviour though and she had soothed everyone over to make it calm again.

Cal had the decency to apologise. He was tired and stretched out. Beth said it was understandable. The other nurse, Cal noted, did not say she was sorry. So he wandered off to see Owen while he was there only to find the boy in clothes!

"Whoa look at you!" Cal greeted him. Owen opened his mouth at him, waved his arms in those jerky uncontrolled movements and kicked his feet. Cal gave his cheek a gentle rub with an index finger. There was colour to it now. He must have gotten over the anaemia pretty quickly. Or at least felt better now he was getting treatment for it. "In your big boy clothes." With the sleeves rolled back because the little baby-grow was too big for him. Still the cutest thing! Cal took out his phone and snapped off a picture. Had Gillian seen this? Sometimes they did sneaky things like this when no one was there.

"You feelin' betta now buddy?"

Cal watched him a moment longer.

"You can pick him up if you'd like."

Cal turned. Beth. Beth he liked. A lot. She was lovely. Dakota was proficient. Snotty-unknown nurse had a big fat 'X' next to her name on Cal's list. "He's in clothes!"

Beth smiled. "Yes. He's been doing very well."

"A quick cuddle," Cal conceded swiftly, reaching for his son. And then he had to get home. Beth walked away again to check on the new charges; the triplets had been born as well as a set of twins and another baby who was twenty-nine weeks and really fighting for her life. Cal settled in the chair beside his son's bassinet. He felt a little bad, going off at the nurse when she was clearly under pressure with so many new arrivals. And it probably didn't help the other parents overhearing him having 'words' in the corridor right outside the door. But still. Surely she understood how freaking stressful all this was? And who would have thought Owen would be the big boy of the unit now. Three weeks ago he was the smallest.

Cal tucked Owen up in the crook of his arm and looked down at him. He pulled faces but Owen didn't smile or giggle back. Too soon for that. '_Too soon for a lot of things, Owen_.'

"Were you a good boy for Mum today?" Cal murmured. "Did you actually feed?" Cal looked around. Stressed out parents sitting at isolettes. Some had screens pulled slightly for a bit more privacy. Three weeks. It felt like longer.

Cal looked down again. Owen had gone still. And it looked like there was a little panic in his eyes. "Oi," Cal sat him up higher. "You're all right. Deep breath in." He shifted a hand to give Owen's shoulder a nudge. "Come on," Cal urged, feeling that uncomfortable set to his heart as he feared for his son. Owen sucked in a breath. Any longer and the alarm would have gone off. Cal made sure to keep him alert to take another one and settle back into his rhythm.  
>"You scare me when you do that Owen. And you're not comin' home till you sort it out. You hear me?"<p>

**PJ**

Cal held the flowers behind his back and headed down the hall. He could hear Gillian talking to Lewis. Probably in the kitchen. He headed there first of course and found them sitting up at the kitchen table. Gillian was in Cal's spot, watching as Lewis cut something out of coloured paper. She spotted Cal easily as he came through the door. As soon as he saw her he was grinning. He couldn't help it. She gave him a smile in return. And then a 'what?' expression in response to his jerk of the head. He wanted her to come over there. Away from Lewis. She got up, telling Lewis she would be right back. When she was close enough Cal produced the flowers and watched the surprised delight on her face.

"What are these for?"

"It's an anniversary today," Cal explained. He feigned shock. "You forgot! I can't believe it."

Gillian narrowed her eyes at him, taking the flowers and pressing her nose to them delicately. "Of course I haven't forgotten. I'm surprised you remembered. That's all."

"Ouch," Cal pressed his hand over his heart. "That cuts me deep."

She gave him a slightly smirky smile and went for the sink, putting the flowers in while she went to get a vase from the cupboard. Cal followed her, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss against her neck while she gave a little hum of delight.

"Hi Dad!"

Cal turned his head. "Hi Lewis."

"Can't reach for the vase with you smothering me."

"Smotherin'? Bit rich comin' from you isn't it?"

Gillian jammed an elbow backwards but missed him.

"Tell me," Cal prompted. "Which anniversary?"

"Our first date."

"Yes," he agreed pleased. It struck him on the way home. Perhaps a bit delayed but still. He did get there eventually. The flowers would earn him brownie points and it was nice to do something for her that didn't involve talking her down from the emotional ledge.

"One of my all time favourites."

"Oh yeah?" Cal's voice went higher, surprised and pleased.

Gillian resisted him until she was able to turn within his embrace. She leaned back against the other bench, beneath the cupboards. She put her arms around his neck and drew him in for a kiss. "Mine too," Cal murmured before kissing her again. She hummed her approval and Cal stepped closer to press his hips against hers gently.

"Dad, don't do that," a small hand tapped at his thigh.

Cal broke away. "Lewis," he started and stopped. He didn't know what to say. He had terrible timing that kid. Him and his brother.


	31. Chapter 31

"Hey guess what!"

"What?" Cal was immediately curious. The tone of his wife's voice was so light and full of joy he could just imagine the expression on her face, the way she would curl around the phone as if she could physically get closer to him.

"Owen's been moved!"

"To where?"

"Level three, the 'feeders and growers' room."

"That's fantastic!" Cal enthused. Owen's doctor and nurses definitely did shit like that when they weren't looking. He was sure of it now.

"And I'm allowed to feed him as many times a day as either of us can manage. You can come up and give him a bottle if you want to. Any time," she stressed.

"No more limitations?" Cal raised an eyebrow.

"No!"

God he hadn't heard her this excited since... he stopped and thought a long minute while she continued to babble about how Owen was no longer on oxygen, again and she had spoken to the neonatologist about when he could come home. He couldn't actually remember the last time he had heard her this excited. Which could be deceiving. His memory wasn't exactly fool proof was it? But it must have been a long time, the memory of it must have been buried deep... wait Owen was coming home!

"Sorry when?" Cal interrupted.

"He has to pass his car seat test," Gillian said again, patiently by the sound of it. "He has to sit in it for an hour and a half while holding his breathing and heart rate. And he has to have his hearing test done."

Cal felt a shiver in his stomach and wondered what that was about. Oh. Lewis. "You're gonna be there for all that right?"

"Yeah," she agreed easily. "But you have to come in for monitor training and baby CPR."

"Just let me know when, I'll be there," Cal promised. Ria entered his office and hesitated once she saw him on the phone. He gestured he would be two minutes. Actually, he signed it without really thinking but Ria nodded she understood and left again.

"All the medications," Gillian went on and Cal figured he should probably start paying close attention again. Or at least make notes when he was up at the hospital, because it sounded complicated. For a thirty-six week old baby Owen had quite the drug accompaniment; something to help his digestion, something to help his breathing. "But I'm trying not to get my hopes up. He still had quite a few spells in the night though."

"So why do they think he's ready?"

"They want to start getting him ready," Gillian clarified and Cal figured perhaps he had missed something in the conversation. "Because of his age and the fact that he's regulating body temperature and feeding."

Cal smiled to himself. He looked so cute in those little outfits Gillian picked out. The very smallest she could find amongst so many presents and donations. And yet they still seemed far too big for him.

"Any way, I've talked your ear off enough," Gillian continued.

"I have been summoned," Cal offered.

"Ok I'll let you go."

"Hey Gill?" Cal got in quickly, before she could hang up.

"Yeah?"

"It's nice hearin' you sound so happy."

"I am happy Cal," she told him as if he were an idiot for thinking otherwise.

"Yeah but actually _soundin'_ happy. And excited."

Gillian was silent for a moment. "Yeah well..."

"It's been very stressful."

"Yes," she agreed lightly.

"I'll head up afta work and give him a bottle."

"Ok," she agreed and Cal could hear her smiling. It warmed his heart. This whole situation had had the potential to destroy everything they had spent years building. After Lily's death Gillian could have easily fallen off the deep end. If the death of her baby, adopted or not, was not a slap in the face Cal wasn't sure what was. And when they had both least expected it she had gotten pregnant again. Another one last shot for a kid. But she was right though. She had clearly dealt with her baby issues because, even now, with all the drama that came with Owen, she was holding it together. Cal didn't sense any hidden darkness in her. She talked to him when she needed to, she cried when it got too much, she smothered Lewis in kisses when she couldn't do the same for Owen, and she cuddled up to Cal when she needed a little extra comfort. Whatever system they had going, and he still wasn't really sure there was one, was working. And Owen was coming home. Hopefully soon.

**PJ**

Cal tipped the bottle back the other way and removed it from his son's mouth. '_Yep, here we go again_,' he thought as he put the bottle down on the table beside him and quickly righted Owen, hoping the sudden shift would jolt him back to breathing. He had Owen against his shoulder, rubbing his back firmly before he felt the baby take a gasping breath, desperate for air for a few seconds before settling into a rhythm again. The monitor attached to his chest had just started to sound its warning and quickly fell silent again. Cal left Owen where he was a little while longer then gently shifted him against his side again, holding him in a similar grip to Gillian when she breastfeed. With consistency, Owen would get the message that this particular hold meant meal times. It was a shame he also didn't get the message that he was supposed to continue feeding and breathing at the same time. Until he did, he wasn't coming home. And it was starting to break Cal's heart a little. He just wanted his son home with his family. He was tired of hospital visits already.

"Here you go," Cal murmured as he got the nipple of the bottle back in the baby's mouth. Owen looked up at him with his blue eyes. He almost seemed apologetic. Almost. He watched his father as he sucked. "You really gotta sort that out," Cal told him and something changed in the boy's eyes as if he understood, as if he were saying he didn't know how and to help him.

"You don't get to come home until you do," Cal went on. Not until he went forty-eight hours without a spell of apnoea or a bradycardia. So far, since Cal arrived at the neonatal intensive care unit that evening, Owen had had three. That was the fourth. "All right buddy?" And Cal could have sworn the kid nodded at him that he understood.

Cal tipped the bottle back before Owen could suck on air and upset his stomach. He put the bottle down and shifted the baby to burp him, resting him against his shoulder again where he already had a towel draped to catch any up-chuck. Reflux was a chronic problem for premature babies. The sphincters that held the stomach closed, and the brain function to work them, was too immature for the baby to handle. They threw-up a lot. And the acid caused problems of its own to a delicate oesophagus. Cal rubbed a hand firmly up and down Owen's back. This was the fourth kid of his he had done this for and it felt so comfortingly familiar. That was, until Owen let out a disgruntled and damp sounding belch, and Cal felt something warm and wet land against his neck and start to slide down beneath the collar of his shirt.

"Oh you are kiddin' me," he complained lightly, shifting Owen to see. Yep. Curdled milk. "Thanks for that," Cal told him, reaching for another cloth to wipe it away with. He must have turned Owen's head the wrong way. He should pay better attention. There really was no room for him to get complacent with all of Owen's special problems. It was an awkward move, trying to keep hold of Owen, and make sure he was still upright so his airway wouldn't get crushed, and wipe away the deposit of milk. Cal supposed he was going to have to get used to it again. There were many things he had learnt to do over the years with one hand full of a baby.

**PJ**

"Hi darlin'," Cal leaned in for a kiss.

Gillian's face was an open smile until he got close enough. Then she turned up her nose. "Ew! You smell." She tried to shove at Cal but he already had a grip on her. He started planting kisses wherever he could while she turned her face away from him. "No," she protested, pushing again.

"Your. Son," Cal started between pressing his lips against her jaw, cheek, nose and chin as she squirmed, trying to get away from him.

"You smell like vomit," Gillian protested weakly.

"Threw. Up. On. Me," Cal finished. He stepped away from her. "I'ma have a quick showa."

"Good idea," Gillian agreed.

Cal shot her a grin as he headed for the door. He was stripping off as Gillian came in to the bathroom. "How was Owen when you saw him?"

"Aside from paintin' me in white?" Cal shot back shoving down his jeans and underwear and kicking them away. Gillian stooped to retrieve them while Cal pulled open the shower door. The water was already running in anticipation. Gillian put his underwear in the wash basket, the jeans she threw on to their bed. "He was all right," Cal called over the water. "Four spells."

"Hm," Gillian mused to herself. That wasn't exactly getting him home any time soon. Even if the nursing staff were happy with his body temperate regulation skills, the rate at which he was gaining weight, he was creeping up on the five pound mark, and his ability to digest his food. It was the apnoea that kept him at the hospital; especially during feeding time.

"When you talk to him, does it seem like he's listenin'?"

"I guess," Gillian answered, pushing the bathroom door closed slightly; she didn't want Cal to feel a draught. Lewis was playing in his room.

"What?" Cal yelled back.

Gillian crossed to the shower and pulled the door open. "I said, I guess."

Cal turned to her startled. His hair was wet and sticking up at odd angles. Gillian felt a pull in her stomach. "Sometimes when he looks at me, it's like he's takin' it all in."

Gillian gave him a smile. "You're so cute sometimes."

"What do you mean sometimes?" He turned around to face her, the water bouncing off the back of his shoulders.

Oh shit now there was a challenge in his eyes. Gillian let the door swing shut gently and quickly stripped off her clothes. Cal looked surprised again as she stepped in but quickly made room, his hands coming out to steady her. Gillian wrapped an arm around his neck, tugging him down for a hot kiss. "Whoa," he breathed against her lips, as she pressed her chest against his.

She kissed her husband again, letting her hand slide down his chest. Still nice and toned despite a complete lack of any sign of a gym. No time for that. What did she care? She wasn't exactly at her physical best right now. Not until Owen slept through the night was she even going to think about taking up some sort of exercise again. She was already far too exhausted to wear herself out further.

"Mm Gill... Too much," Cal warned her.

"That was kind of the point Cal," she told him, making use of his name if he liked the way she said it so much. It wasn't her accent, she had figured out, but the way she said it, slow like that, like it was dripping tantalisingly off her tongue: Caal. It was the Virginian in her.

"You left the door open," he growled, making her shiver. He wasn't exactly helping his own argument here.

"So it'll just have to be quick. Sorry," she added, gripping him tightly.

He bucked his hips into her, giving another low growl again. Then he took her by the shoulder and stepped them around in a half circle until his back was at the door, shielding them in case a curious face appeared to see what they were up to. Gillian added her other hand to the mix, rubbing her palms against him.

"Wholly mutha!" Cal exclaimed. His grip tightened on her shoulders. "Gill!" He half moaned. "That feels so!" He trailed off and gasped air. He was tense, as if he were being electrocuted. Gillian could see the tendons sticking out against his throat and then his eyes widened and locked on to hers as he exploded against her. He was surprised and so was Gillian. That hadn't even lasted a minute. His self control was usually so much better than that... Especially since the abysmal conception of Owen. "What did you do?" He asked shocked. "That was the most... the... hardest... intense... kind of... what did you do?"

Gillian washed her hands under the spray. "Me?" She asked innocently.

"Do it again?" He requested in a low voice.

Gillian laughed.

"No, seriously, that was different," Cal stepped towards her to put his hands on her waist. "What was it?"

She gave a shrug. His eyes went momentarily wide again and then narrowed. "Have you been on google?" Gillian made to step around him but he stopped her with the hands against her waist. "Oi, work computa's are for _work_," he told her pointedly.

Gillian gave him a slight smile.

"You're terribly naughty," Cal leaned down to kiss her. She let him. Then he pressed against her gently until she had to take a step backwards. He held on to her, so she kept her balance but continued to push until her back was against the cold shower wall. She gave a protest in her throat as he continued to explore her mouth; the shiver, she wasn't sure was in reaction to the cold or his warmth. "You know, seein' as I just managed to ova-achieve on the time limit, we still have a moment here," his voice was sultry smooth and his hand slid with ease over her hip to her pelvis. He stroked her there, making his intentions very clear.

"The door's open," she reminded him weakly.

"I'll be quick," he responded rapidly and knelt before she could say anything else, or get a hold of him to stop him. He nudged her knee to the side and gripped her around the back of the thighs before pressing his mouth against her. Gillian's head shot back so quickly it made a loud cracking sound against the glass. Cal looked up at her, surprised and a little concerned. "All right?"

"Fine," Gillian told him, placing a hand on his head. "Keep going," she encouraged.


	32. Chapter 32

"Do you think that would be excitin'?" Cal asked, tucking a clean t-shirt into the top of his bag. He was trying to get Lewis excited about Owen coming home soon. Not that that was going to happen until after the room-in that was. But the room-in was still one more step closer to the big homecoming and that was certainly something to be excited about.

Lewis finished zipping Cal's toiletries and put it in his bag for him. He nodded. "But I no come today." He shook his head then.

"No, not today buddy," Cal agreed. Poor Lewis. It broke his heart that the boy was cut out of so much but there really was nothing he could do about it. Lewis couldn't room in with them at the NICU while they had the sleepover to learn how to be with Owen without a nurse hanging around. Lewis could come and visit now that Owen was in the step down unit. He was limited to a few visits a week, provided he wasn't around any other majorly ill children at the day care. Cal had been telling Lewis about how Owen was getting ready to come home soon while he packed his overnight back. He would have though Lewis would be thrilled by that. He wanted to be part of his brother's life. But perhaps today was not the right day to bring it up. Lewis also struggled a lot with his brother being in the hospital.

"But you and Mum go," Lewis hung his head and Cal could see the pout of his bottom lip and yep, sure enough, a few seconds later he gave a sob and started crying. Big fat tears dropped to the carpet and Cal's heart joined them in pieces.

"Aw munchkin," Cal stopped packing his bag and knelt in front of his son, wrapping his arms around his son's thin shoulders. He pulled him in tightly, so Lewis was kneeling on Cal's thighs. He rubbed his back, pressing his large hand against the boy's small shoulder blades. "Buddy, I'm sorry you can't come. I'd like you to."

Lewis sobbed again. "It's just so long!"

"I know," Cal agreed gently. It had been a long time. Four weeks now, since Owen had been born. He had gotten used to the routine. Gillian had too. Lewis was clearly not doing too well with it and Cal kicked himself for not noticing sooner, nor doing something to intervene. He had hoped the visits to see Owen, letting Lewis hold him and have pictures taken, would make a difference. Clearly not. Clearly, he failed again.

Cal picked Lewis up easily and sat on the bed, holding his son against his chest, trying to use the four and a half year old to plug the crack threatening to open along his heart. The sound of his boy crying made tears sting in his own eyes. This wasn't Lewis having a wail because he didn't get his way; this was the little boy's sorrow spilling forth. It was awful. Cal leaned back so he was lying against the mattress. Lewis brought his arms up to hug around Cal's upper torso. He kept crying, and Cal kept his hands moving up and down his back in a comforting way. He hummed a little, an old habit.

Gillian came in and immediately came to a halt just inside the doorway. '_What happened_?' She asked him silently. Cal gestured that she should come over. She crawled on to the bed next to where he lay and rested her head against his shoulder, settling against his body, her hand came to her son's lower back.

"Lewis is a little upset," Cal noted lowly. Lewis gave a splutter but didn't stop. "Because he's feelin' a bit left out," Cal met his wife's eye. He saw the understanding in her; she got it.

She gave a sigh. "Aw Lewis," she murmured. But it was clear she was at a loss as to what to say to that too. There was nothing either of them could do. They spent time with him together and separately. They made it a big deal that he got to spend so much time with Grandma, who had been an absolute lifesaver with babysitting. And Emily, who really went out of her way when she had school work to worry about as well. But what Lewis wanted the most, neither of his parents could give him.

"Oh baby," Gillian pressed a kiss against Lewis's head. He seemed to realise she was there and slid towards her, giving a slight wail. She put her arms out so he could get close and wrapped him up in a hug, much like Cal had a minute ago. The sticky, hot body left Cal's chest and he went back to feeling as if he would split open down the middle. He turned to his side, Lewis almost trapped between them, but mostly on his mother now, and rested his head on his wife's shoulder. Lewis looked like Gillian when he was truly upset. His face would go red and so pitiful.

The boy pressed his face into his mother's chest and sobbed some more, the wracking of his body shaking the bed gently. Cal felt tears sting his eyes again. When he met Gillian's he could see hers were wet too. Aw shit.

**PJ**

Cal knelt to his son's level. The kid was reluctant to let go and as anxious as Cal was to get up to the hospital, and as nervous as Gillian was to get this night over with, they had promised each other, and Lewis, that they would take all the time he needed. They might not have told him in those exact words, otherwise he really never would let go, but they had called the hospital and Grandma at the last minute to let them know they were going to have dinner with Lewis before they went up. They hadn't rushed it. Cal had spent time with Lewis working on his 'welcome home Owen' card. No pressure. Lewis had helped them finish packing, making sure there were clothes for his brother and the new teddy-bear Emily had bought for him. It was tradition after all. And at least if it was brand new there was less chance of some bug or mould being caught up in the stuffing. The nursing staff shouldn't confiscate it and wrap it in plastic if it was straight from the store...

Then they had loaded up the car with their bags and Lewis helped carry Gillian's pillow, the one she wanted to help her feed Owen; it would support his tiny five pound weight. When Gillian got antsy Cal reminded her of the state Lewis had worked himself into that afternoon and she took a deep breath and resigned herself to this taking some time. For Lewis. It was important. Clearly the kid was not happy and they had obviously been too slow on picking up on those signals.

Cal gave Lewis a hug. "You be a good boy for Grandma?" Good: bringing his right hand from his mouth down to meet his left hand, both hands flat. Boy: a 'C' hand by his forehead, squeezing shut. Grandma: splayed fingers by the chin, moving away in two arcs.

Lewis nodded. "All right," Cal noted or agreed or gave in. He didn't want to leave him. But he was torn between his two boys now. Lewis and Owen. He'd never had to deal with two kids at the same time. Well there was Lewis and Lily but that was just not even close to being in this league of difficult. Cal gave Lewis another hug and a kiss. "Shall I call you before bed time?"

Lewis nodded again.

Ok, clearly wasn't going to get words. "I love you Lewis," Cal signed it the long way, so that he got the emphasis Cal felt. Lewis signed it back and gave a great mucous heavy sniff. Cal got to his feet again. Dana was standing nearby, Gillian leaning against the front doorway, and both were watching the interaction.

Dana approached Lewis, putting her hand on his shoulder. "We'll be ok won't we Lewis?"

He looked up at her, baleful blue eyes and nodded again. God he was killing Cal! _Killing_ him. "For a treat we're going to have ice-cream!"

It was a pre-approved treat though. Lewis had eaten his dinner at home like a good boy and now he was allowed ice-cream and chocolate sauce in the middle of the week. And there was no day-care tomorrow so he could just play all day. Dana had talked about taking him somewhere special, like a museum, or, depending on weather, making a picnic and heading to the park. Brave of her to volunteer running around after a four and a half year old in a public setting.

Gillian held out her hand to Cal. She wasn't impatient now, just offering him support to walk out the door. He gripped it tightly. "Thanks Mom," Gillian offered. "Bye Lewis," she gave him a wave. Lewis raised his hand; the other he had slipped into his grandmother's grasp. Cal didn't look back as he walked away.

**PJ**

They had had baby CPR training, apnoea monitor training, oxygen saturation monitor training, equipment trouble-shoot training and knew the feeding schedule. Owen had passed his car-seat test; surviving the hour and a half without having a spell of apnoea or a bradycardia. Gillian had sat with him during that time, telling Cal later how they had had to pad around his head to make sure it didn't slump and crush his airway. A nurse was down the hall, literally no more than five meters away, but still, despite knowing everything, Cal could feel the weight of being alone with their thirty-six week old son, and all his complications.

Owen slept in his bassinet. Gillian was finishing unpacking. She had just fed the baby and they were settling for bed, considering when they had finally arrived at the hospital it was so late. The staff, as always, were completely accommodating. But now that everything had stopped, Cal sat on the edge of the bed and could see his son's face in front of him as if the boy were right there with them. Lewis that was. He was thinking about Lewis. Poor wee tyke. Cal could feel it heavy on his heart.

Fingers curled around the back of his skull, through his hair. He looked up to find Gillian standing over him, her face gentle but with an edge of concern. "Are you ok?"

"I don't actually think so, no," Cal admitted.

She shifted her hands to his shoulders, pushing him back a little so she could sit in his lap. She pressed tight against him, stomach to stomach, chest to chest, shoulder to shoulder, cheek to cheek. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, resting her head against his ear. "What's wrong my darling?" She murmured into his hair.

Cal started crying.

**PJ**

Gillian cuddled up to her husband. She put her arm over his chest and felt him breathing. He was warm and she pressed her nose into his neck, taking in the scent of him for a moment before giving him a kiss and turning her cheek to rest it against his shoulder. She rubbed her hand down his ribs and back up again. "Talk to me."

"It's sleep time."

"Come on Cal," Gillian prompted. She _was_ tired. She _was_ sleepy. But he had been crying. Crying! They had a problem and it needed to be dealt with. Now. Lewis might not be able to break down exactly what his problem was, but Cal could, if he would. He might have decided he didn't need to see Wu anymore but that didn't mean he didn't need to talk, on occasion, about the hard hitting stuff.  
>"I just feel like everythin's startin' to pile up a bit."<p>

"Owen stuff?"

"Well yeah you know. Every time somethin' goes right two otha things go wrong. He's been so close to comin' home for several weeks."

"I know," Gillian murmured. Owen was asleep no more than six feet away. The anticipation made her neck ache. "He'll be ok though," she added the mantra he had been telling her since she arrived at the hospital that morning in late February, before Owen had even made it into the world.

Cal was silent for a moment and she waited for him to go on. She waited for him to be comfortable talking to her. Or maybe just about what was bothering him. She had learnt her lesson the hard way. Not everyone wanted to talk. Not everyone could talk. And more importantly, not everyone in her life was a patient to fix. But this was her husband and if he had a problem then it meant _they_ had a problem and she hoped he would open up to her. She hoped. Normally he did. Sometimes he needed more time. The trick was knowing when to push and when to back off.

Cal sighed. "Lewis," he started and his voice sounded strained.

'_Oh yeah_,' Gillian thought dismally. Lewis. She hugged her husband a little tighter. Their fingers were linked on the bed and she gave them a squeeze.

"I knew it was tough on him but I had no idea how much."

"Me either," Gillian admitted.

Cal shifted slightly, uncomfortable. "It breaks my heart. Poor wee man."

"I know," Gillian told him softly.

"I'm not really sure how to make it betta for him."

"I don't either, but between the two of us we'll come up with something. We always do." And it wasn't like either of them neglected the kid. They had both made conscious efforts to spend time with Lewis, individually and as a family. But there was honestly nothing they could do to put brother and brother together. Not yet anyway. "And it will be over soon." She gave him a tight hug. "Owen and I had a chat. He promised me."

"Did he?" Cal's tone rose a little in interest.

"Uh huh," Gillian confirmed.

Cal shifted his arm so it was over hers, over his ribs. "Well all right then, if he promised."

"What else sweetie? What else is dragging you down?" She spoke gently. "Are we ok?"

"Are we?" Cal asked, sounding concerned.

"I thought so. We are on my end at least. You're fantastic."

Cal smiled at her use of one of his words.

"You're there for me when I need you and when I snap your head off you don't take it personally or hold it against me. There's no limit on the abundance of hugs and kisses and moments like these. You look after both our boys." She gave him another squeeze. Their _boys_! "You cook and clean and do laundry."

"I put the toilet seat down too when I'm done."

"I know!" Gillian enthused quietly, running with his interruption. Because a joke was a joke and she would take it.

"And I'm good in bed, if you know what I mean."

"I absolutely do," she agreed. "You're there for me in every way Cal," she got serious again. "Am I there for you? You can tell me if I'm not. I'd rather change than get mad."

"You're there for me plenty."

"But maybe it's not enough? If you're feeling down?"

"No it's enough. It's more the stuff I can't control that I find so damnin'."

Well yeah, there was that. Which brought them right back to Lewis, and Owen, who was making little grunting sounds in his sleep.

"Listen to him," Cal murmured.

Gillian gave a very light laugh. "Yeah."

"At least we know he's all right ova there."

Gillian went quiet. There it was then. The first connection to what happened with Lily. They had already agreed Owen would stay in their room until he slept through the night. They had already agreed he would be on an apnoea monitor until he was a year old. They were not taking chances. It was two parts paranoia, one part requirement. The hospital would send him home with a portable heart and breathing monitor but Gillian had already insisted that he got to keep it for so much longer than normal. Seriously, she was not taking any chances. Not again.

"I didn't mean to imply," Cal started.

"I know what you meant," Gillian responded softly. "It's ok. We're ok." But she was sleepy before and now suddenly feeling so much more alert. She could hear Owen breathing right? She stopped to listen for a second. Yes, there, a steady stream of air in and out. And besides, the monitor _would_ go off if he stopped wouldn't it? Wouldn't it?


	33. Chapter 33

_AN: M Chapter_

**PJ**

Gillian bounced over to Cal when she saw him come into the room. He tossed his keys on to the breakfast bar. "This," he gestured to her chest vaguely, as she got closer, gripping the arm he had in the air and pushing it down so she could get closer to him. "Is fantastic," Cal finished as she reached up slightly to kiss his cheek. He gave a slight laugh, pleased with the happiness in her face. "What's that for?"

She grinned. "I went to see my doctor today."

"Owen's comin' home!" Cal interjected.

"No. _My_ doctor," Gillian stressed, her face falling a little.

"Oh right. Wait, are you all right?" His hands came to her shoulders, holding her in place.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm better than fine." Her hands went to his waist. "Johansson gave me the all clear."

"All clear for what?" Cal asked as Lewis crashed into his legs from behind. Cal's knees bent and he stumbled into Gillian, who barely prevented his fall, taking a step backwards to stop herself from getting knocked to the ground. "Lewis!" Cal raised his voice. "Geeze you gotta be careful!"

Lewis came around his father's thigh, grinning. "Hi Dad!"

"Hi," Cal said back, untangling himself from his wife. "You nearly knocked me ova!"

Lewis grinned wider. "Did you have nice day?" He signed 'good' and 'day' and pointed up at his father with a serious questioning expression.

"Yeah I did thanks," Cal answered. He put his hand on top of Lewis's shoulder to move him away a little so he could stand back again without squishing the boy's toes. "How was your day?"

"Good," Lewis nodded, giving his father a thumbs up.

"Fantastic," Cal responded. Gillian moved away to the bench again, where she had been preparing dinner before he had come in. "I'm gonna finish talkin' to Mum for a sec, and then I'll come hang out all right?" Cal signed 'talk' and pointed to Gillian then indicated he would come upstairs in a 'little' amount of 'time'.

Lewis nodded. "Upstairs," he instructed. "Trucks." He finger spelled the word quickly.

"All right," Cal agreed. Lewis raced off towards the door and Cal turned back to his wife. "Back to trucks then is it?"

"There was a concrete truck pouring a new sidewalk across the road from the day care, so all the kids were very excited about it today," Gillian told him. She was slicing bacon, and there were mushrooms and onion diced up in a bowl next to her.

'_Fettucini_,' Cal deduced. Yum.

"So yeah," she looked over at him. "Back to trucks."

Cal peeled back his suit jacket and leaned over the bench to also put it on the breakfast bar. It was getting warm again now that March was nearly over. Yeah March was nearly over and still Owen had not come home. "So what were you gonna tell me? About what was given the all clear?"

Gillian put the knife down and scooped the bacon up with both hands to dump it in the bowl along with the mushrooms and white onion. "I was saying," she started, reaching around where Cal was leaning against the sink to wash her hands. "That I was given the all clear. You know." She gave a half shrug and turned the water off. "The site where the placenta was attached, it's all healed up." She stepped away from him to grab a towel.  
>"Hang on," Cal unfolded his arms. "That means we can have sex."<p>

She turned to give him a smile. "Yes it does." His face was carefully controlled, like he had to clarify the facts before getting excited. Cal reached for her, roughly turning her into the bench with the press of his body. He pinned her with his hips and she slipped her arms inside of his, sliding her hands up his back while he kissed her neck. His torso was warm through the fabric of his shirt and his body heat and mouth made her shiver.

Cal growled. "I've missed you."

"Me too!" Gillian groaned as his hands found their way under her shirt to her flesh, firm and purposeful as they wound around her waist. Never mind they had been making out, feeling each other up, and doing everything close to sex as they could possibly get without actually having any actual sex.

"Now," Cal whispered.

"No," Gillian objected.

"Why not?"

"Lewis."

"Ugh," Cal grunted his displeasure, his mouth against her ear, her temple, her cheek, her throat. Gillian could barely do more than hold herself upright and not simply slump against him. Then he really would have his way with her and she would be helpless to stop it. He had been saving this up. He hadn't been this... intense... the whole time...

Cal pulled away suddenly. Gillian's eyes flew open to see what was wrong. She hadn't even realised she had them closed. "What?" She asked breathlessly. Yeah, breathless, just with that. He was good. Damn he was good.

Cal pretended to look around at knee height. "I just figa-ed. If we're makin' out the munchkin will be in to break it up."

That was making out? He hadn't even kissed her... Gillian grabbed him this time, practically by the collar, and yanked him towards her. She met his mouth halfway, kissing him hotly, thoroughly, a little desperately but she didn't care about that right now. Cal pressed into her again, hard, so the bench hurt at her back, but not enough to distract her from this. His hands ran from her back to her waist, down and around to her hips; his tongue in tango against hers. _Oh wholly mother_... Gillian groaned and broke away for air but he wouldn't let her go. He kissed her again and then again. Her knees did buckle and yes he did beat her at her own game, he often did. He was _that_ good.

Cal's body kept her upright against the bench and she felt the way his hands took some of her weight, gentle now and the kisses calmed down until she could breathe again but her body temperature was still high and so was her heart rate. When he finally stopped with the assault she was just about a limp mess in his arms. He rested his fiery forehead against hers and caught his breath lightly. Now _that_ was making out.

"Any one would think you were tryin' to seduce me," he murmured.

Gillian nodded. She turned her head away from him, searching around them at head height. "Nope, no sign of the munchkin."

Cal chuckled and Gillian looked up into his eyes again. Oh her hands where in his hair and it was sticking up at funny angles. When had she done that? His eyes were bright but also dark and he looked pleased but without that arrogance of their early days together. He caressed her cheek. "I'll keep goin' then," and he leaned in to her mouth once more.

**PJ**

Naked. She woke up naked. And for a second, unsure of where she was. This was not her bed and the sheets were not familiar. But she had no clothes on and so that must mean she was at home... or... oh yeah. She broke into a smile and pried open her eyes. Yes, the sun was up and she could see. There was Cal. Asleep still. And he was naked too. She knew that without even having to look. Because last night they had had sex for the second time, or had made love, and were now officially sleeping together.

It was all kinds of wonderous to think about. Not only was he absolutely amazing in bed, like she had entirely thought he would be, but she felt stupidly happy that they had actually consummated their relationship, that they had finally crossed that line; couldn't take it back now. It was a big step forward and he had been so sweet about waiting for her to be ready. That patience had translated into his every action last night and the night before too. Who knew Cal Lightman could ever be so damn content with taking his time?

Gillian shifted closer to him, turning on to her side to watch him sleep, feeling her leg brush against his hand on the mattress between them. Cal liked to watch her sleep. Which was kind of sweet coming from him but also slightly weird. People were most vulnerable when they were asleep. Alec used to get paranoid that she was watching him. He used to get paranoid about a lot of things. It was no wonder really. Gillian sighed. It was time to get up then and change the subject. She needed the bathroom. And to not think about her ex-husband when she was in bed with another man.

That thought sent a shiver through her.

Gillian slipped from beneath the sheets and turned to put them back in place, making the bed around Cal. She grabbed the first piece of clothing that looked like it was for her top half and not trousers of some sort. By the time she reached his bathroom she identified one of his shirts and slipped it on, doing up a few buttons to keep it closed. She pushed the door almost shut, not wanting it to bang in the frame in case it woke him up. Although her getting up and dressed didn't seem to do the trick. Which was interesting when she thought about it because, as she had deduced from experience, he either woke up well before she did and watched her, or he slept a bit like the dead and her climbing out of bed and getting dressed didn't disturb him at all.

When Alec was high he slept like the dead. That's how she could tell. Otherwise he slept terribly.

'_Stop it!_' Gillian told herself as she washed her hands at the sink. The mirror was huge, giving the room that illusion of space. It meant if she stood on the other side of the room she could see her full length. Where she stood now, she could see to her pelvis, which was, incidentally, where Cal's shirt ended on her. She studied her reflection for a moment. She looked happy. Good. She should be happy. She reached for the spare toothbrush Cal had laid out for her and the toothpaste and put them together. She studied the light in her eyes as she brought the brush to her mouth. She hadn't looked or felt this good in a while. If Cal made her happy, and perhaps he did, the moment it stopped she was out. She wasn't going to do that again. Cal would understand. He had been there himself.

And then, a figure in the doorway and her stomach immediately tightened and her breath caught. Her hand stilled, her brain ceased to remember what she was mulling over; the brush fell from between her lips. His hair was slightly messy but he had obviously tried to finger comb the long strands back into place, much like Gillian had done while standing at the mirror. And he was wearing practically nothing, just like she was, except he had gone for covering his lower half leaving his chest bare. But it was the look in his eye that had her dropping the brush into the sink and turning to face him, her toes excited to see him. She gripped the ledge of the vanity beneath her fingers, then launched at him at the same time he rushed across the bathroom to meet her.

Their bodies clashed into each other, mouths meeting desperately. Gillian's stomach leapt and didn't seem to come down as the heat of his tongue dominated hers. His hands gripped her waist tightly, drawing her in while his chest pushed against hers so she curled against him. He pushed harder, taking a step forward, forcing her to take steps of reversal until she felt the sink at the small of her back again. Gillian let out a desperate huff of air and kissed him harder. He growled a little and she considered it a victory she managed to get a verbal reaction from him. So quiet. So unlike the Cal she thought she knew. Just went to show, she didn't know him completely until she knew him... _completely_.

Cal pressed his hips into her in a little thrust and she matched him with a grind that had his fingers tightening. It was kind of exciting without him talking. She had to be so much more aware of the smaller reactions. But two could play that game. She kept quiet too. She wasn't going to make it easy and just tell him. Where was the fun in that? And if he was serious about them, about this not just merely being a shag to him, which he had partly proved by waiting when she asked him to, then he could prove it some more by taking the time to figure her out. He was doing phenomenally at it so far. It wasn't like he _wasn't_ figuring it out. In fact he was. He was probably reading her face but she didn't even care. When sex was this good, she could let it go.

Cal stepped away from her slightly and Gillian's hands shot to his hips to tug him closer again. "Where are you going?" She asked against his mouth, using the opportunity to bite him. He gave a little growl in response and pushed against her hips with his hands. Up. She got the hint and pushed off the floor with her toes while Cal lifted her. The bench was cold against her bare thighs and she flinched slightly. "Cold," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck loosely.

Cal gave a little laugh, stepping in closer, shoving her knees roughly apart to push against her chest again. He kissed her neck, working the buttons of his shirt to reveal her body, smoothing his palms against her breasts. "Oh!" Gillian moaned at the sensation, throwing her hips forward against his, feeling how hard he was. "Cal," she groaned shifting her hands against him, attempting to rid him of underwear. She could hear him breathing heavily, excitedly, his hands were all over her and the ache he was building was starting to get painful. Already.

Cal took over from her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles behind him. She smoothed her hands through his hair, ending by gripping his ears. He fumbled for a second and she could feel his hands against the inside of her thighs. She wanted him more. She wanted him now. She attempted to shift closer but her skin was sticky against the counter she was sitting on. Cal moved her instead, to where he wanted her, her hips angled backwards as he thrust into her hard, an almost guttural growl escaping him.

"Owow," Gillian whispered as the fine line between pain and pleasure blurred.

"Ow?" Cal pulled back to look at her.

"I started with 'oh' ended in 'wow'."

Cal gave her a grin. She tapped the back of his shoulder. "Keep going," she demanded in a low voice. A desperate voice. He gave a little grunt and thrust again and again it almost hurt in the most delicious way, but mostly it hurt that it stopped. "Again." Cal complied gripping the edge of the vanity to keep his balance. "Harder!"

He answered that request too, setting up a steady rhythm that echoed their breaths against the walls. Cal pushed his shoulder into hers so she leaned back against the mirror. The shirt had slipped from her body and she was aware of that cool surface too, for a second, until the glass heated rapidly under her fiery skin. Her heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ears, over the sound of Cal's excitement. He dropped his head to kiss her neck a little. So Gillian squeezed him tighter so there was barely any room to move. She wanted him as close as she could possibly get.

"Gillian," he whispered against her neck.

"Cal," she echoed. She could feel them winding up, together; he drove against her harder, pushing her into the mirror. Gillian smoothed her fingers through his hair, over his cranium and grabbed a handful of strands at the back of his skull. She pulled his head back so she could see his eyes. Dark blue. She expected lust; she got adoration. It made her stomach finally slam back into place. This was scary. What they were doing. They were making magic. Unique and beautiful. They were both falling hard and she knew it. The thing is, did Cal know?


	34. Chapter 34

"Mmm naked wife," Cal pressed his nose against the back of her ear and brought her out of sleep gently. He pressed a thigh against the back of her leg, and his back along the back of hers causing Gillian's stomach to quiver. Or was that the sleepy endearment? The accent and the heady voice...

"Naked husband," Gillian murmured in response, becoming more aware. She shifted slightly within his embrace so they her chest was now pressed tightly against his chest.

"Last night was fantastic."

"Mm it was," Gillian agreed, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. She kissed his tattoo; the one that said 'love'. It was hers now. Cal told her that. It must have been meant for her. He didn't know what love was until he'd loved her. She brushed her hand over her other tattoo. The promise. Her other hand slid down his arm, over the band and the ink for his children. "Are you going to get something done for Owen?"

"Oh see I knew you weren't just tryin' to feel me up."

Gillian gave his shoulder a smile and shifted back to see his face. The room was grey. Which meant it was close to get up time if it wasn't already. Gillian was aware of the heaviness of her breasts. She wished Owen would just come home already. Hooking up to a machine just wasn't the same.

"I guess it depends on what we end up namin' him. But it's funny," he went on. "Cos I think I misplaced the forms to regista his birth. Have you seen them around?" His voice was light, more than if he were merely asking a question.

Busted.

"No I haven't seen them," Gillian responded.

Cal shifted. His face came into view. "You sure?"

"I wouldn't lie to you," Gillian responded with fake indignation.

"Tell me what you picked," Cal demanded lightly with interest, giving her arm a little squeeze.

She shook her head at him. "You'll have to wait for it to arrive in the mail."

"Oh come on!"

"Nope," she insisted. "That's what you did to me with Lewis."

Cal narrowed his eyes suddenly but he didn't answer her. He was still for a while and then finally he huffed, "Fine". He threw himself down on the bed on his back, jostling Gillian. "I don't have a comeback." Gillian smiled and then levered herself up on an elbow to look at him. "Don't get too smug," Cal warned, raising a finger slightly to point.

"Or what?" Gillian attempted to bat it away from her.

"Or," he shot up again, knocking her back and smothering her immediately with his chest and mouth. "I'll have to rid you of it," he murmured against her neck, planting more wet kisses. "I'll have to kiss it out of you." Gillian giggled. He pulled back quickly. "That was a genuine giggle."

Gillian looked up at him, still smiling, still stupidly content after last night and now this morning. It had been a while since she had felt that way. Far too much stress. "Yeah it was."

"That's good," he gave her a soft smile. "Haven't had a giggle in a while."

"There hasn't been a lot to giggle about."

"Very true. But now we're allowed to have sex again all is right with the world," he leaned down again to give her a quick kiss. Gillian chuckled. "So you're not gonna tell me?" Gillian shook her head. "It's girly isn't it?"

"Says the man who named our son 'hope'."

Cal gave his amused grin and Gillian laughed again and then her phone started ringing. Cal leaned up to retrieve it from the bedside table. He checked the number and quickly handed it over. It was the hospital. Gillian pushed Cal away to sit up as she answered it, gripping the covers against her bare chest. Cal hovered close.

"Hi Gillian, it's Beth from the neonatal unit."

"Yes?" Gillian quickly cut her off.

"I was just calling to ask you to bring in Owen's car seat this morning. He can go home today."

Gillian was still for a moment, aware of her heart pounding. She was pretty sure she wasn't breathing. Cal gave her a nudge, concern in his questioning eyes. "He can?" She strangled out.

"Yes," Beth responded warmly. "Doctor Parker has cleared Owen for discharge. You'll need to attend a discharge debriefing."

Gillian stopped listening closely. She looked into her husband's cautious, extremely curious expression and softened hers into a smile. She muttered some agreement to the phone and disconnected the call. Her smile turned into a grin in front of his bewildered face. "Geeze what?" Cal cut in on a breath, like he had been holding it. He was still leaning over her.

"Owen's coming home!"

**PJ**

It felt like forever, but really it had only been just slightly over a month. Owen was thirty-seven weeks old officially. His apnoea had not disappeared but he had gone the prerequisite forty-eight hours without a spell that made him go pale and unresponsive and he was gaining weight exactly on target and so he was allowed to go home. He would grow out of the lingering apnoea eventually. Gillian went to get him while Cal waited at home with Lewis, who had been bouncing around the house with the excitement of his brother's release. Gillian might have preferred him going to day care and finding out Owen was at home at the end of the day. But she could concede Cal's suggestion to keep him included was probably better for the four and a half year old emotionally and psychologically.

Of course, Gillian would also have preferred it that her husband was there as the medical staff strapped Owen into his car seat and swapped over the monitors from the hospital's to their home one. She would have liked to have a bit of support while they went through the discharge debrief, about what she should look for if Owen was in distress, when the right time was to call an emergency department, the timing for all his doctor's appointments. And after that was all done with and she was actually allowed to pick her baby up and just walk out, yeah, she would have liked to have had a hand to hold and someone to carry the bag.

But what were they going to do with Lewis? Leave him in the car? Leave him at home? Organise yet another babysitter at the last minute and abandon him at home while they went off as a family and dealt with Owen once again without him? It was tough. Really tough. And Gillian found herself in tears as she got out to the car, overwhelmed. Owen was asleep so he didn't mind them but something this monumental should have involved all of them. They should have walked out of the hospital as a family, all four of them, next month, when Owen was actually supposed to be born. Not now. Not like this.

Gillian unlocked her car, the trickle of a lone tear tickling her cheek. She put Owen in the back, in the place formerly occupied by Lewis's car seat. She had simply taken his out that morning to make room for the baby's. When she put it back, it would go behind the driver's seat. Gillian made sure to clip in Owen's restraints securely and tucked the monitor beside the chair so it wouldn't fly about in an accident. She also made sure Owen's airway seemed open and he wasn't likely to slump his head and crush it. So much stuff to remember! Then she got in the front, behind the wheel, and whished again her husband was driving her home from the hospital. She sat for a moment, feeling the weight of sadness in her chest, and a little fear. She should be happy about this. She should be as excited as Lewis. And she was, she had been, until reality had sunk in. This wasn't even the end of it. Owen would be on the monitor for a long time. He wasn't allowed out of the house to protect his immune system and before long, there would be a revolving door of doctor's visits to make sure his eyes were fine, his hearing was normal and that he was healthy and growing just like he was meant to be.

Gillian reached for her phone in her bag on the passenger seat and as soon as it was in her hand it started ringing. Cal. Her heart gave a funny nervous beat. She didn't want to let him down. "Hi," she answered quickly.

"Hi sweetheart. I was just checkin' everythin's all right."

Gillian glanced at the time. She had been gone a while. "Fine. We're in the car now, about to head home."

"All right. Cos I've got an excited four and a half year old here talkin' my ear off. And by talkin' I mean practically screamin'."

Gillian managed a weak smile. "Ok well we won't be long."

"All right," Cal agreed. "See you soon!" And she could hear the excitement in his voice too.

Gillian put the phone down and started the car. And then it struck her, a wave of anxiety. She had to get Owen home safely now. She wished again that Cal was with her. She knew if she placed just one phone call he would get in the car and come to her as quickly as he possibly could. But she had to learn to do this on her own. She couldn't hide behind him forever. Could she?

**PJ**

"All right," Cal knelt to Lewis's level and held the jumping bean by the shoulders to keep him still and focussed. "Mum's here." Lewis's chest puffed out in excitement. "But," Cal held him a little tighter. "Rememba what we talked about?" Lewis nodded. "Owen's asleep so we have to be quiet and we can't touch him without washin' hands first all right?" Cal rubbed his hands around each other like he was cleaning them under water, then put them back on his son's arms to keep him focussed on the conversation.

"Cos it make him sick," Lewis responded, making to 'five' hands with the middle fingers bed and placing them at his head and stomach.

"Yeah it could make him sick," Cal agreed with a nod of confirmation.

"And go back to hospial." Lewis made a 'cross' on his upper arm.

"Yeah and we don't want that do we?" Cal shook his head 'no'.

Lewis shook his head vigorously.

"So we're gonna be good boys right? You and me? For Owen and for Mum? Cos Mum needs us to be good boys too."

Lewis nodded. "I'm a big boy."

"Yeah I know," Cal agreed and let him go. Lewis went back to literally bouncing on the spot. And Cal went back to trying to soothe the nerves in his stomach. This was really happening. Owen was really coming home and it would really be down to them to keep him safe and well and alive. Just them. No more nurses or doctors hovering over his bassinet every five seconds. Scary. As all hell.

And the worst of it was that he could hear the anxiety in Gillian's tone and there was nothing he could do about it from here. He wished he had gone with her but he was also over palming Lewis off at the first sign of Owen issues. They had to learn to cope. They had two kids, two! so they had to just learn how to deal with that. Cal didn't feel good about shutting Lewis out of everything. The boy was already obviously sensitive about it. Cal didn't want him to feel as though he was left out because he didn't matter to them, or that he didn't matter because they had a new baby. They were a family after all, they were meant to be a unit. They were going to have to be to make this work. Cal had never had to properly deal with two children at once. Lily hardly counted, she wasn't around long enough and those memories bordered on the vague half the time, even while others were crystal clear; that was the nature of his recovery.

Cal headed down the hallway to the garage and Lewis bounded along beside him. He knew he couldn't smother the baby in kisses. He knew he had to be careful and he was showing great self-restraint. Gillian was getting out of the car as they opened the internal door. "There he is!" Lewis pointed from the step. His left hand waivered in the air as he turned to look up at his father excitedly.

"Yeah," Cal agreed with a grin. He caught Gillian's eye over the top of the vehicle and she smiled. That was a good sign because it looked genuine. Cal gave Lewis a gentle nudge to get him to move down the stairs to the garage floor. Gillian retrieved Owen's bag from the back and Lewis went over to take it immediately. He knew the ways in which he could be helpful. He had big strong muscles now, he could help carry bags. Gillian let him have it and thanked him politely.

"Now you get Wen," he instructed his Dad, standing, gesturing and waiting for Cal to move. He made sure he stayed 'out of the way' so his father could get to the car without tripping over him.

Cal's first instinct was to lean in to the sleeping baby and rub the back of his little hand. He actually physically had to stop, think about it, and just coo something instead. He unclipped Owen's seatbelt, tucked the heart and breathing monitor between the kid's leg and the car seat and lifted the whole lot from the back while Gillian suggested to Lewis that they go inside and wash their hands so Lewis could have the first hold at home. Cal let the car door close gently and the internal door with barely a click. It felt like he was carrying porcelain.

Cal had already baby-proofed the house; Owen-readied it, that was. He had strong anti-bacterial soap in the downstairs toilet and by the kitchen sink, for either convenience. He had taped the rules of entry to the front door, for those who felt like they might spontaneously descend upon them once news of Owen's homecoming broke. And he had gone over the kitchen, dining room table and Lewis with bleach. He tidied up too, but that was more to do with nervous energy and clutter.

He took Owen to the coffee table in front of the television and put him down while Lewis and Gillian finished drying their hands with paper towels. Lewis bounded over, waving his hands in the air. "You see Dad? Nice and clean." He made the gesture by brushing his hands along each other (nice and clean were the same sign incidentally) and Cal realised there was something they hadn't thought of. Signs that touched the face, head or clothing. It had taken so long to get Lewis to talk and sign at the same time and now what were they going to do?

"Take a seat buddy," Cal instructed, pointing to the corner of the couch. Gillian had bought a new hypoallergenic pillow for Owen during feeding and, in Lewis's case, support during cuddles. Cal had brought it downstairs, along with a supply of nappies and wipes and other immediate baby necessities. All new. All of it. Anything second hand was going to have to wait until his immunity was better.

So Gillian tucked the pillow in next to Lewis and told him to sit still. While Cal went to wash his hands with the industrial strength bug killing soap, Gillian lifted Owen from the seat and settled him against his brother and the pillow, so most of the baby's weight was actually against the couch. "Oh," Lewis cooed softly. "So pitty," he whispered, looking down at the sleeping Owen. Gillian's heart melted into a puddle and dripped over her toes. She felt tears well up in her eyes. What was wrong with her today? And she needed a camera.

Cal approached with their hand held, not a phone, for those extra fantastic pixels. "Smile Lewis," Cal warned. The boy looked up and grinned, squeezing his eyes almost shut and baring neat rows of even white teeth. Cal snapped the picture and showed it to Gillian. Too cute. He put his arm around her. "You all right?" He murmured as he pressed a kiss against her temple.

"Yeah," she whispered back, her voice not quite so strong. "Just..."

"Overwhelmin'?"

"Yeah."

"And slightly unbelievable?"

"That too," she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Mum can we have kisses?" Lewis looked up at her again.

"No baby, not yet."

"I brushed my teeth," he grinned again to show her.

"Very nice," Gillian responded. She crouched down to his level, checking Owen's head wasn't at a funny angle and crushing his wind pipe. He wouldn't be able to move it himself if he was having trouble. He seemed ok. The monitor _would_ go off wouldn't it? "But not yet. Ok? Just not yet. You can be a good boy and wait can't you?"

Lewis nodded solemnly. Then he gave a funny wincing expression. "My arm's tired."

"Ok," Gillian agreed and moved in to slide her hands beneath the warm body of her baby boy. She cradled him against her body while Lewis scooted off the couch, knocking the monitor to the floor. The cords stretched out to their limit and he looked up at his parents horrified.

"Sorry!" His fist crushed around his chest so rapidly the sign was almost illegible.

"It's all right Lewis," Cal picked it up quickly. He checked the leads weren't loose and were still stuck to Owen properly and the monitor was still working.

"Is it broken?" He brought his fists together in front of him so the thumbs met in the middle and literally 'broke' them apart.

"No buddy," Cal tucked the monitor between Gillian's arm and her body. "It's fine. But you need to be careful." Big Ferris wheel 'K'hands.

"It was akkident." He signed 'mistake', rolling a 'Y' hand along his chin, starting with the thumb, ending with the pinky finger.

"I know. But we all have to be careful," he told his son lightly and crouched down to his level while Gillian took a seat on the couch. Cal wondered when he could pry them apart so he could have a cuddle. "Lewis. I'm very proud of you," he changed the subject and made an 'A' hand shape with the thumb extended and ran it from his stomach up to his chest. "Very nice cuddles with Owen." Lewis beamed. "Do you wanna see the photo?" He cupped his right hand into a slight curve and moved it from his cheek to his left palm which was held in front of his chest, the fingers pointing to the ceiling. Lewis nodded and Cal handed over the camera.

The kid already knew how to pull up the database of images. He studied it, seemed satisfied and then looked to his father again. "I take one of Mum?" He mimicked clicking the shutter of a camera with one hand, while his other gripped the device.

"You sure can," Cal agreed, sitting down on the two-seater, opposite his wife at a right angle. She was checking Owen's throat again. Lewis poised himself and clicked the shutter while Gillian wasn't looking.

"I wasn't ready," she told Lewis, glancing up.

But Cal saw the saved image on the camera's screen for inspection before it disappeared again. What he saw was a beautiful expression of love and apprehension and as far as he was concerned, even if she wasn't looking, it was better than the second image with its forced smile.


	35. Chapter 35

Owen was quiet when he was asleep during the day but in the night, he made all kinds of weird noises. Grunts, groans, high pitched whines, sighs, lip smacking... it was funny to hear it. Highly amusing. But also, not so good for sleeping through when the baby was in the room with them. It didn't help that Gillian's ears were also on the alert for the sound of the monitor. She had not slowed down since Owen had come home. A few times she thought she could hear it and came running only to find, the first time, that Lewis was mimicking the sound of some space ship, and the second time had purely been her paranoid imagination; she was too afraid to leave the room without him after that.

Owen let out a snort and beside her in bed, Cal started laughing. "Right that's it," the light suddenly came on.

"Ow!" Gillian put her arm over her eyes. "I could have been asleep."

"No, you're not. You're awake, I'm awake, so let's do somethin'," he whispered, shifting to lean on his hip.

"My eyes!" Gillian moaned lightly.

Cal's hand gently pulled her arm away and he smoothed his thumb along her cheek, giving her such an intense expression she was struck with how much he looked like Lewis. Or Lewis looked like him. Whatever. "Hey whoa," Cal was instantly concerned. He wiped a tear from the corner of nose. "What's?"

"You're so..." But she didn't finish it. She brought her hands up to her face to bury it, knocking his hand away in the process. Cal was still for a moment and then moved again to pull her into a hug. She shifted from her hands to burying her face in his neck. His hands soothed her back as he quietly comforted.

"Did somethin' happen I'm not aware of?"

She shook her head.

"Just a monumental day?"

She nodded.

"Hm," Cal responded but fell silent again. He rubbed her back lightly until she pulled away and settled on her own pillow. He gave her a mildly concerned expression but he didn't press her. Was he getting used to the crying? When was it going to end?

Gillian wiped her cheeks again, feeling the tingle of tears starting to dry. "I don't know why I can't stop crying!"

"Big day today," Cal supplied. "And you're tired and a little bit hormonal and it's all very... surreal and scary that Owen's home now?" She nodded again. How did he know? Exactly what was in her head? "That's all right darlin'," he told her gently. "To cry. It's betta than bottlin' it all up inside."

She nodded again. "Yeah," she agreed. And she would never let herself cry so much if it weren't for Cal being there to mop up all the tears.

Cal reached out to smooth his thumb against her cheek. "Anythin' else?"

"Lewis was so sweet today."

"Yeah he was," Cal smiled.

"Takes after you."

"You," Cal corrected. "I have a reputation to uphold here."

Gillian laughed softly, aware their baby was asleep in his crib at the foot of their bed. New crib, new mattress, new blankets and sheets. Everything was new for him.

"Which havin' all these kids is completely trashin'."

"No," Gillian corrected. "You're mellowing out in your old age."

Cal whipped his hand to his heart in mock shock. "Take that back!" He choked out quietly. "I am not old! I'm forty-two not fifty... whateva."

Gillian smiled again.

"You know what Emily informed me of recently?"

"What?" Gillian played along.

"That she and Ajay have to bump back their baby plan every time I have anotha kid so that they're not the same age."

Gillian laughed again. "Really?"

"Yeah and I was like 'thank god cos I'd hate to have my kids and my grandkids the same age' that's just not right."

Gillian giggled.

"Look a giggle!" Cal gave her a grin. "A genuine giggle. Anotha one!"

"It's your fault we keep having more kids."

"My fault?" Cal feigned disbelief. "Really. You want to rethink that statement Mrs Lightman? Which one of us jumped whom that led to him?" He jerked a thumb in their son's direction.

Gillian gave him a coy smile. "That's still your fault."

"And how do you propose to justify that?"

"You're completely irresistible. How am I expected to keep my hands off you?"

Cal chuckled lightly, then his face sobered up suddenly. "That is true."

Gillian gave his shoulder a light shove, scoffing and turning on to her back. Cal shifted in so he was close, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear. "So. Feelin' betta?"

"Yeah," she agreed. Lighter, yes, but tomorrow was another day and she still had things to worry about. They had to get through the night first; Owen's first night home.

"How do you feel about Owen?"

Gillian pushed his head gently out of the way so she could see his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"I mean, we didn't exactly plan him and his birth was a little traumatic."

Gillian waited for the question.

"I mean, it's been tough with him not here, and not bein' able to cuddle up with him... and bondin' was harda."

Click.

"Oh," Gillian started, her mind racing. "You asked me about this with Lewis too."

"Yeah well, he was also a traumatic birth with wide reachin' repercussions. I just wanna make sure you're all right," he went on as if he had to justify himself. "No resentment or anythin'?"

"Of course not," Gillian responded indignantly and then stopped. Gazing into his blue eyes she could see he was merely asking out of genuine concern. It was not an accusation of her inability to cope or be a good mother. She placed a hand on the roughness of his cheek. He wanted to grow his beard back and while she might quite enjoy the end result, she hated the in-between stages because of the scratching. It looked sexy as hell, all rugged and... but it was a bitch to kiss. "Cal, no," she shook her head. "I don't feel that way. And if I did I'd be begging you to get me some help. The last thing I want to do is screw our family up more than it is."

"Hardly screwed up," Cal murmured.

"It's complicated though," she corrected. "And emotionally high strung. Especially at the moment. You know I know it doesn't serve anyone for me to keep that kind of thing to myself."

Cal nodded.

"I'm ok. Honestly. But if that changes, I will let you know."

Cal nodded again. "All right."

"Deal?"

"Deal," Cal agreed.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Cal held out his hand and she immediately wrapped her little finger around his. They squeezed and let go and settled back against the pillow, Gillian within Cal's embrace, her head resting on his shoulder. "You know what we should talk about now?" Cal went on, changing the subject slightly.

"What's that?"

"Lewis."

"What about Lewis?"

"School."

"Oh."

"I found the letta amongst the massive stack of mail on the bench."

"Did he get in?"

"Yeah he did."

Gillian could hear the pride in her husband's voice. She hugged him a little tighter, pleased herself. After several heated, pregnancy hormone fuelled discussions they had agreed on private school. Because, as Cal argued, had they not worked so hard to give their children a legacy? And did that not start with their education? Gillian could hardly disagree with that. The cherry on the top was Lewis's hearing. There was no _way_ Gillian could argue against that. So Concord Hill it was, just over the border in Maryland. Visits were done, fees were paid, contracts had apparently been sent.

"Ooops."

"Yeah," Cal agreed.

"Probably should have been more vigilant with that kind of thing."

Wait.

"But I don't remember hearing back about Lewis's visit."

"That letta arrived with the contract Gill," Cal pointed out. She gave a groan and turned on to her side so she could press her body against him. She buried her face again. "Been a busy few months Gill."

"No excuse!" She muttered into his chest. "Terrible."

"Hey!" Cal sighed softly. "You're undoin' my hard work!" He shifted her forcibly so she could no longer hide. "Gill come on. Mitigatin' circumstances. I got this one. You've had about a billion of the otha's. Tag-team parentin' all right? This is how it works. It's fine."

"When does the paper work have to be returned?"

"Tomorrow."

"God we should do that now," Gillian tried to push against him to get up.

"Are you kiddin'?" Cal tightened his arm around her.

"Cal we should have done it today. Or yesterday. When it arrived."

"Today was kind of a busy day Gill."

She tried to fight him. "Would you stop?" Cal demanded raising his voice a little. They both froze as Owen gave a sudden loud whimper. "Stop it," Cal insisted in a whisper. "This entire year has been crazy. I can't rememba public holidays without a phone prompt. This, this I got though."

"That's different."

"No it's not," Cal retorted. He lowered his voice again. "It's not Gill. Please don't be so hard on yourself. I'm too tired to talk you out of it. Accept you're wrong. Let's move on before you wake up Owen."

Gillian gave him a pout and gave up on fighting him. She lay down again. He was right though. She was the one who often chased him up about the important things like paper work and contracts and their kids. It seemed fitting he got to be responsible for this one thing; Lewis's school. It was a burden she wanted to share, this 'tag-team parenting', as he called it. She was too tired for fighting and trying to do this alone. _Accept you're wrong_. She almost snorted her disbelief.

"By the way, his birth certificate also arrived," Cal spoke up again after a moment of silence.

"Oh yeah?" She responded curiously.

"Owen Michael Miracle," Cal recited.

Gillian waited for him to go on but he didn't. She dared to study his face a little. "You like it?"

"I do."

So no more teasing about her filling out the forms and picking Owen's middle names and not Cal this time? "Of course I did think about Batman," she told him seriously.

Cal chuckled. "Definitely," he responded soberly. "Certainly appropriate."

"But Miracle just seemed to sum it up so much better. Don't you think?"

"Absolutely."


	36. Chapter 36

"Aaaah ah!"

Gillian stirred slightly. Then there was silence. She was pretty sure she had heard something. She felt pretty sluggish this morning though, not in the mood for leaping out of bed to attend to the cry of her son. If it was the monitor, she would be in there in a flash; had bruised her knee to hell stumbling through the doorway, asleep, after that alarm; or she thought she had heard that alarm. She was a little more weary now.

Then another squeal. She turned over slowly to check the time. Why they even set an alarm she didn't know. They were always woken before it, either by Owen calling out or Lewis coming in, or sometimes, they stupidly just woke up.

"Aaaaaaaaah aha hup!"

"Owen," Lewis spoke up.

Gillian flicked back the covers to get out of bed. Cal's arm shot out to grip around her waist and drag her down. "Shh," he murmured before she managed a proper protest. "Listen."

Gillian stopped, half on one elbow, her legs getting cold as she listened to her boys on the baby monitor. Lewis made soft, cooing, calming noises and Owen mimicked them. No more distressed calling out. Cal pulled her towards him, encouraging her to settle again. Gillian eased back against the bed, ready to move again if she needed to. Cal's hand shifted to the blankets and covered her over. Then he put his arm over her waist once more, tightly, and snuggled his nose into her neck. "Lewis has him."

Gillian relaxed a little more as it became clear Lewis really did seem to have Owen. There was no way Lewis could lift the four-month old Owen from his crib, and they had purposefully made sure he didn't know how to drop the side to make it easier. He could climb in though, the little monkey. She wondered what they were doing in there. Was Lewis playing with Owen nicely until one of his parents came in to get him?

"Means we can cuddle," Cal added.

Gillian smiled slightly and closed her eyes again, letting the last tension go and placing her hand over the back of her husband's. "For a little while ok?" The alarm would go soon anyway.

"Mh hm," he agreed. "Big day today."

"Yeah," Gillian agreed with a spasm of nerves. She really was awake now. Lewis didn't seem bothered at all but it played on her mind. Her little man was starting school today.

"How often do we get to do this?" Cal murmured pulling her thoughts away abruptly.

"Hardly ever."

"More like hardly _neva_." He held her tighter, pressing against her. Gillian turned over to put her arm around him and they settled hip to hip, chest to chest. "Don't tease," Cal grumbled.

Gillian gave a slight smile. They hardly ever got to fool around either. With Owen's apnoea they had barely had a minute alone without a child around. Someone always had to be with Owen, watching, on edge, waiting for the damn heart and breathing monitor to go off. Gillian still got up in the night to check on him; the monitor was still there, even though he had been apnoea free for about a month now, according to his doctor. It was hard to let that kind of thing go. Not with the way Lily had died in the back of her mind. Always in the back of her mind.

Owen was technically only four months old but it had been six since his birthday. The double age thing screwed with them so much they tended to just deal with an 'adjusted' age. When Owen was forty-two weeks gestation his age became two weeks adjusted. So he was four months old adjusted if anyone asked. Then they would explain he had been born prematurely if it warranted it.

"I can feel you thinkin'," Cal whispered. "What's on your mind?"

"Just... hard to believe our baby is off to school."

"Yeah," he paused in agreement. "Course there's two parts to that sentence, _our_ baby, for one, and off to _school,_ bein the otha."

Gillian smiled again. Yes, the insanity of having _another_ kid this late in life had not worn off, let alone the fact that they had even managed to have another kid _at all_. Not when they were exhausted and had zero time for anything else, including themselves. Not when Gillian wasn't supposed to be able to have kids without IVF. Not when this time last year Cal had been in the hospital with a brain injury severe enough to worry both of them into thinking he may never recover his memories. But all of it was worth it for a morning like this, hearing Lewis apparently reading to his brother through the baby monitor, while she cuddled up in the warmth of her bed with her husband. The boys must be in the crib together this time. Gillian had gone in on other mornings to find Lewis crouched on the floor beside Owen's bed playing with blocks while his brother looked on with interest through the bars.

"Is it get up time?"

"When the alarm goes off," Gillian told him. She smoothed her fingers through his hair, around his scalp.

"Feels nice," Cal muttered into her shoulder.

"You know what else I'm thinking?"

"Is it dirty?"

"Sort of."

"I'm interested."

"I'm thinking maybe with Lewis's first day at school he'll be all worn out and might need an early night."

Cal's head pulled back and he gave her a bleary but interested expression. "Don't tease."

"I'm proposing," Gillian went on, running her fingers around his ear. "An early night for the boys."

"And for us?"

"Lewis should be easy."

"Owen's the troublemake-a," Cal finished.

"Hmm," Gillian mused.

"I'm willin' to give it a try," Cal went on.

"Definitely give it a try," Gillian agreed. The alarm bleared suddenly and Cal leaned over her to shut it up. Owen gave a sudden cry. "Time for breakfast then."

"I'm gonna go have a wank in the showa."

"Lovely," Gillian muttered as they went their separate ways. "Think of me," she shot over her shoulder.

"I do," Cal retorted, pushing the bathroom door closed behind him.

Gillian headed down the hallway, picking sleep out of her eyes, and pushed open the boys' bedroom door. Yep they were both in the crib. Lewis had a book propped up on his knees as he lay beside his brother. Gillian snuck out again quickly before either of them noticed her. She needed a camera. She rushed back to the bedroom for her phone; the handheld was downstairs. In the bathroom, she could hear the shower running. The boys didn't notice her come back in. She crept up on them again and snapped of a candid image before Owen let out a squeal and didn't let up until she picked him up; arms and legs flailing.

"Me too!" Lewis held out his arms, tossing the book to the side.

"I can't lift you baby," Gillian told him, gesturing with one hand while shaking her head 'no'. He was too heavy. Plus, she already had her arms full of a sixteen-pounder. She retrieved Owen's heart and breathing monitor and tucked it between him and her body so it wouldn't fall. Owen immediately grabbed a fist full of wires in his left hand and raised them too his mouth. "Climb down the same way you climbed up."

Lewis hung on to the railing, rocking back and forth so the crib banged against the wall. He pouted at her. '_Don't show him how to drop the side_,' Gillian reminded herself. '_Don't show him_.' That was just begging for trouble. Honestly, she could just think of a half dozen ways that would be completely stupid right now. "Stop that," Gillian instructed sharply, giving a sharp one-handed 'finish' gesture, which meant 'knock it off' and Lewis came to a slow halt. Owen grabbed a fist full of her breast and made her wince. Yeah she got the point, he was hungry. Gillian held out her hand to Lewis. "I'll help you." He took it and swung a leg over the rail falling awkwardly to the floor, swinging from his mother's hand as she jerked it upright to break most of his fall. "You ok?"

Lewis looked up at her from his knees on the carpet. He hooked his finger over his ear and gave her a questioning expression. Gillian nodded 'yes' and he went to retrieve his hearing aids from the case that now lived on the little table beside his bed. He was learning to do them himself and he was very proud. He had to know in case he needed to take them off at school for whatever reason. Swimming probably, was the most obvious, but there could be other reasons. He already knew how they worked; he had shown Cal after all. So while Lewis sat on his bed and put his hearing aids on carefully, Gillian changed Owen at the table, putting him in a dry diaper and t-shirt and shorts. She kissed his soft head once she had finished, savouring the sweet baby smell for a moment. She told Lewis to get dressed, to which he nodded, and she headed out again, baby in one arm, apnoea monitor in her other hand. She stuck her head into the master bedroom to see Cal was putting clothes on himself. "I'm heading downstairs."

"Lewis?" Cal requested an update.

"Is getting dressed."

Gillian headed into the living room, pulling back the curtains to reveal a bright cloudless morning. "It's going to be a nice day Owen," Gillian told him.

"Ah ah," he responded, slapping a hand against her collarbone.

"Yeah," she gave him a smile and headed for the couch. She pulled a pillow closer, laying him back against it and getting comfortable. Owen already had his mouth open eagerly, looking up at her patiently with those beautiful deep blue eyes. Her eye colour this time, sort of; it was darker than hers but certainly not as light as his father's.

Fifteen minutes later Cal and Lewis came in. Lewis got his bowl out of the cupboard and his spoon, making half a dozen trips across the kitchen, back and forth for each item he required to get his own breakfast. He had nice tidy clothes on and his hair had been combed forward to where it stuck up at the front; he'd just had a haircut. Gillian watched him from her perch. Cal went straight for coffee. He had his fist sip black, then got the milk from the fridge. It was interesting to see how the boys moved around each other. It was amusing to see the way Lewis carried his full bowl carefully over to the table, two hands, micro-steps, determined concentration.

Cal brought her toast and a very weak coffee with lots of milk and she thanked him with a smile. "Anythin' else?" Cal hovered.

"Nope I'm good," Gillian looked up. Domestic bliss that made her heart ache with the joy of it? Oh yeah.

**PJ**

Cal crouched down to Lewis's level. The classroom was buzzing with many voices and they weren't the only parents hovering around with their children about to start Kindergarten. Except, most of the kids already knew each other from the year before, the pre-kindergarten class, what they called primary. Concord Hill took children from age three, which was pre-primary and some of these children had been together even since then. Cal gave Lewis's shoulder a slight squeeze to get his attention. They had been worried about his hearing aids in a classroom situation like this. But it had worked out ok at the day care, even when he had moved into the pre-K programme and had more structured sessions. He seemed to cope with that fine. Concord Hill had a small teacher to child ratio. And they were fully aware of his different requirements. They were excited to use him to encourage the other children to learn to sign and they had assigned a teacher aid with sign language skills to his room.

Cal realised he was nervous. Probably more than Lewis was, though the boy didn't look particularly happy right now. He looked up at his father with a slight pout. The tiniest purse of his lips that Cal recognised as him showing displeasure. That and the fact that he had gone quiet. "All right buddy?"

Lewis nodded. "Lots of strangers." He moved his hand in front of his face and then both on either side of his body, in front of him, his fingers pointing straight outwards, palms facing each other.

"Yeah I know, but they won't be stranga's for long. By the end of today you'll know all of them." He signed a double 'know' by touching his forehead twice with an open hand, to mean 'familiar'.

Lewis looked around the room dubiously. There were two or three other new students amongst the group. Lewis turned his gaze back to his father. "You pick me up?" He made a pinching gesture with just one hand to indicate he meant to get picked up after school, instead of signing the entire phrase.

"No Mum's gonna pick you up afta school," Cal reminded him gently.

"And Wen."

"Yeah and Owen," Cal agreed. "And then late-a I'll be home and you can tell me all about your first day all right?" He signed 'after', 'home', 'talk' and 'day'.

Lewis nodded.

"All right. Hug?" He rubbed his fists up and down his upper arms quickly.

Lewis leaned forward and put his arms around his father's shoulders. Cal planted a kiss against the side of his head and gave him a fierce squeeze. The bell rang and Cal let him go. Gillian gave him a hug and kiss too and then his teacher called the children to sit on the mat. Cal went to stand by his wife. "Are you going to stay for a bit?" She asked.

"I can't," Cal declined softly. "Said I'd meet Reynolds about somethin'. You?"

"Just for a bit."

They both watch the other parents saying goodbye and starting to leave. "All right. See you late-a then," he gave her a quick smile, and turned to start walking away. He had a business meeting to get to.

Gillian's hand gripped his arm lightly to stop him from leaving. "Are you ok?" She seemed a little amused.

"I don't actually know," Cal admitted. "You have any idea how long it's been since I had to leave a kid at school on the first day?"

"At least you've done it before," Gillian retorted softly.

Cal leaned in to give her cheek a kiss. "Lewis on the otha hand, seems fine." He gave her a proper smile this time and headed for the door. Gillian turned to see Lewis sitting amongst the children, hand already raised in response to the teacher's question. Yeah, she sighed, he was going to be fine. Gillian turned to Owen, who had woken up and was watching her from his seat. She gave him a smile and he waved his arms and kicked his legs at her in response.

"Shall we go home?" She asked him in a whisper.

"Ah," Owen answered and gave her a smile.

**PJ**

_Just wanted to say thank you for reading and for reviewing :)_


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